SANDS
by Patcat
Summary: Post LOYALTY
1. Chapter 1

Yes, I have three other ongoing stories. But the plot bunnies insist that I start this one.

SANDS

Chapter One

"You want me," Alex said with a mix of anger and sadness. "To let this go? To let the man who's responsible for the murder of our Captain and friend to walk free—more than that, to let him become the fake king of a fake country—just on the words of the Feds? Because of some higher good? I don't see much evidence of a higher good. And since when have we ever trusted or given into the Feds?" She studied Bobby carefully. "Did they threaten you? Or me?"

Bobby briefly remembered how little the FBI agents' threats, even the one to confine him to a mental hospital, frightened him. "Yea," he admitted. "They threatened me. But I'm beyond being scared by threats to me. And they either didn't know enough or didn't have the guts to threaten you. That would've worked, I gotta admit."

Alex reddened.

"They wouldn't or couldn't tell me everything. I really think it was a case of "couldn't". But Ross believed in it. I don't think the Feds thought it was so dangerous. The female agent—Stahl—actually feels badly about everything."

Alex snorted.

"I know," Bobby acknowledged. "But they've already got a line on several gun runners. If they can get this operation working, they can take out several more gun dealers and drug dealers. It can save the lives of American soldiers. I understand why Ross signed on."

Alex stared into her cup. She had a terrible sense of what Bobby was doing.

Bobby leaned forward across the table. "Alex…Letting Hassan go…It's horrible. It's wrong. It makes me sick. But the only thing worse is if a bunch of very bad guys go free. Then Ross died for nothing."

"His kids, other cops. They'll know Ross wasn't a bad cop? The Feds will do something to stop the rumors?"

Bobby nodded. "Yea. And once the case ends, he'll be a hero. They expect it to last a few months."

"A lot of people aren't going to be happy about this. Nichols…"

"I know. I'm the FBI's emissary. I'm supposed to talk with Nichols." Bobby tightly clutched his cup.

"Bobby, I'm not sure even you can get someone to believe in something you don't believe in," Alex said. She took a deep breath. "And I have to tell you…"

Bobby stood. He knew what she was going to do, what she had to do, what the Brass was making her do, and he didn't want it to happen, at least not yet. "There's Nichols. I'd like to get this over with."

Bobby Goren was used to hating the things he frequently had to do. He was also used to hating himself. He'd rarely hated himself as much as he did as he explained the necessity for Hassan's release to Nichols. He was enormously grateful that Nichols could make the separation between the message and the messenger. Bobby liked and respected Nichols, and he hoped he might keep the man's respect. Bobby was human enough that he found Nichols' quiet, subtle, and angry reminders to Hassan about the young man's future very gratifying. Everything that happened after that wasn't surprising; in many ways, it was a relief. He suspected he was about to be fired, and he'd already spoken to his union rep and knew he had a chance of keeping some of his benefits if he stayed quiet. He had his friend who worked as a reporter at the LEDGER as an ace in his sleeve and a weapon to defend himself and especially Alex. His great regret was that Alex was the instrument of his firing, and he hated the Brass more for that than anything else.

He had a plan of sorts if he were ever to get fired; considering his many battles with the Brass over the years, it would've been foolish not to have one. He anticipated that the worst of the Brass might force Alex into delivering the bad news, and he'd tried to plan for that as well. But when it happened she was so upset and trying so hard not to show how upset she was that any words seemed hopelessly inadequate. So, he did something he'd occasionally allow himself to dream of doing. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek and held her. He was stunned when, after a shocked moment, she hugged him back and held him. All that he wanted to say fled from his mind.

"I'll see you around," he thought as he walked down the back stairs of One Police Plaza. "Eight years of putting her through hell, eight years of her being the best partner and friend anyone could have, and all I can say is "I'll see you around"?" He nearly turned and went back up the stairs. "No…She just started the new job. She'll be busy. She's upset. I'll talk to her later. Apologize. After I've got things settled."

He had a lot to do in little time. Settling with the Department proved easier than he thought, largely because neither he nor the Department wanted a fight. He put his house up for sale, arranging with the realtor for the money to go into his savings account. He put the things he wanted to keep in storage, and sold or gave away the rest. He sold the Mustang to Lewis. He revised his will, and, just as she had every time Bobby had changed it, his lawyer questioned why Bobby's main beneficiary was someone not related to him. Bobby again explained that he didn't have much of a family aside from the young cousin who was the only other person who would receive a bequest. He wasn't surprised that he didn't hear from Alex. He knew that between her new position and her family—whose members he suspected were taking her out to celebratory dinners every night—she didn't have time to call him. He'd surrendered his cell phone to the Department, and the only messages on his home phone were calls from his lawyer, his realtor, and Lewis. And then one day, roughly a week and a half after he'd left One Police Plaza, there were two calls.

One was from the FBI, confirming that the agency could and would use him. "I'm ready," Bobby gratefully told Agent Stahl. "I just need to speak with…with Ms. Eames." He thought it strange that he didn't know what to call the woman who'd been his partner for eight years and was his best friend.

"All right," Stahl agreed. "Just remember that you can't give her any specific details."

The other call was from Zach Nichols, who was clearing up a point on a case of Bobby and Alex's. Bobby quickly provided an answer, but had a question of his own.

"I don't understand. Eames could've answered this. Is she that busy?"

There was a long pause, and Bobby thought he could hear Nichols' thinking.

"You haven't heard. She hasn't told you," Nichols said deliberately.

"Heard what?" Bobby asked as a feeling of dread spread over him.

"Ok," Nichols said. Bobby recognized it as one of the signs that Nichols was quietly measuring his words and their possible results. "Eames never took the Captain's exam. She was only the acting Captain of Major Case for an hour."

"Only long enough to…" Bobby tightly clutched his phone. "What, where is she?"

Nichols sighed. "She resigned, Goren. She left the Department."

"Because of me…"

"Not just you," Nichols said quickly. "Because of what the Brass did. Because of what they made her do."

"She didn't tell me that she was…I'd never ask her to do that," Bobby said.

"That's obvious," Nichols said. "As obvious as the fact she didn't tell you about what she was going to do. Listen, it's none of my business, but that's never stopped me before. You both spend so much time and energy worrying about hurting each other, that you wind up hurting each other."

"Yea," Bobby admitted. "Do you know what she's doing?"

"As far as I know," Nichols said. "She's at home. She's not in contact with anyone here. I can tell you that the way you and Eames were treated has caused a lot of tremors in the Department."

"Thanks, Nichols," Bobby said warmly. "Thanks for everything."

Bobby considered calling her, but he had too much to say. His anxiety rising, he took a cab to her house. He briefly thought of having the cab wait in case Alex wouldn't speak to him, but he finally sent it away. Alex's car was outside her garage. Bobby walked up to the front door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

The sound interrupted Alex's scrubbing of her bathtub. She sighed and blew a stray hair out of her face. "I could use a break," she thought as she surveyed the bathroom. "But I hope it isn't someone from my family." She pulled off the handkerchief she wore to hold her hair back. "They've been wonderful to me, but I can take only so much love and care." She walked to the door and looked out the security hole, and her heart jumped.

"Bobby," she thought. "And he knows."

She took a deep breath and opened the door. "Hey."

"Hey," Bobby answered softly. "Did I interrupt anything?"

Alex shrugged. "Just cleaning a bathroom. Come on in. I can use the break."

Bobby followed her. He could feel the elephant of her resignation at his heels.

"You want a drink?" Alex asked. "Even something strong? It's not like we're on duty or anything?"

Bobby tried not to smile. Alex had just petted the elephant.

"No thanks, but coffee or tea, if you've got it?"

"Sure. Come in the kitchen." Alex walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher. "You've spoiled me. I used to like the instant stuff. Now I have to make it with teabags. And with good tea." She handed him a glass.

Bobby took a long drink. "You quit," he finally said.

Alex sat wearily in a chair. "Yea."

Bobby sat across the table from her. "I didn't call because I thought you were busy. I didn't know until Nichols called this morning about one of our old cases."

Alex ran a hand through her hair. "It wasn't your fault, Bobby. After what they made me do to you. And offering me Major Case like it was some prize for doing it. It was the final straw."

"You didn't tell me," Bobby said softly. "But there were a lot of things I didn't tell you. I guess it's a kind of payback."

"I didn't know what or how to tell you," Alex said. "I guessed you had enough to deal with. And I didn't and don't want you to think that you're responsible."

"Nichols," Bobby said carefully. "Said we keep hurting each other because we don't want to hurt each other."

Alex smiled weakly. "That does sound like us."

"I was the main reason," Bobby said after a moment.

"Bobby. Like I said, you're the best. The best cop and man. If the Department can't see that, won't see that, I don't want to be part of it."

"But…You were a Captain. It's what you always wanted. Your family. You've got blue blood going back a long way."

Alex smiled again. "I've broken a lot of my family's traditions, Bobby. Lots you don't know about. You cut me, I bleed red." She took a drink. "I didn't want to be a Captain. I didn't want to be a Lieutenant. I only took that exam because you and Mike gave me so much grief about it."

"I told you, didn't I," Bobby said proudly. "That you'd get a high score. One of the highest."

"Yea." This smile was honest and warm. "I think you may have been prouder of that than I was. Of course, you helped a lot."

"But you did it," Bobby insisted. "You can do anything."

"Not anything," Alex said gently. "I couldn't be a Captain, especially of Major Case. Too much politics."

Bobby stared into his glass.

Alex reached across the table and placed her small hand over his large paw. "Look, Bobby, I knew what the NYPD was when I got into it. My family. Some of them got treated badly like my Dad. Some of them did things they weren't proud of. I knew I didn't want to be part of the Brass. I wanted to be a good cop. If I ever lost sight of that or got confused, you reminded me. I'm very grateful for that."

Her voice faltered at the end, and she couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Alex. You don't know what it means to me…For you to say that I did that for you." His voice was as shaky as hers. "For me to have meant that much to you."

"Mean," Alex said. "You mean to me."

Bobby stared at their hands. "Mean? Oh, God, this just got a lot harder."

"What got harder?" Alex asked.

He took a deep breath. "The FBI. They need someone to take Ross' place. I'm going to do it."

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Alex stared at him. "They're going ahead with the plan? After…" She shook her head. "Bobby, no. You can't trust the Feds."

"I can help them, Alex. If this works, it'll stop some very bad people." Bobby leaned forward to press his point. "It might even save some American soldiers' lives. Ross believed in it. I owe him this."

"And," Alex said quietly. "You could get killed."

"My odds are probably better than when I went to Major Case every day. Certainly better than when I worked in Narcotics."

"But I won't be there to help you, to back you up. You can't trust these people."

Bobby shrugged. "Maybe not all of them. But I think I can trust Agent Stahl. And the Feds have too much invested in all of this. It's one of the reasons why they're willing to use me. I'm getting a lot in return. Letting it be known that Ross was a good cop. I'll get paid well."

"As if that would mean anything to you," Alex said.

"It'll pay my bills," Bobby said flatly. "And they're going to try to find Donnie and help him."

"Why is it I don't think the FBI can do a better job with that than you?" There was a heavy weight in Alex's chest.

"They have a lot more resources and manpower," Bobby said. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I need a contact, Alex. Usually it's a family member. And, well, you're the closest thing to that I have. But you don't have to. If you don't want to…"

Alex's head snapped up. "Of course I want to! Just because I don't like this idea doesn't mean I don't want to help you! You're my partner…" Her face fell. "My friend," she said quickly. "You're my friend. My best friend."

"Thank you," Bobby said after a moment. "I hoped you say yes. I brought the forms." He reluctantly pulled his hands from Alex's. "I hope I didn't. I didn't mean to assume anything. I'd never take you for granted, Alex. Never."

"I still don't like it, Bobby," Alex said. "But I'm here for you. You have my support."

"Thank you."

"When do you start?" Alex asked after a moment.

"Tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"Yea. Everything is in place already. I need to get up to speed on everything, but the Feds hope to get me in place in three or four weeks."

"It's too fast," Alex said.

"Well, I have a job," Bobby said. "What are you doing?"

He was trying to change the subject, and he knew that Alex knew that. But she was willing to follow him for the moment.

"Cleaning my house. Taking care of things I've needed to take care of for a while. Playing with Nate." She smiled. "I've actually gotten a couple of job offers. Deakins called as soon as he heard."

"He called me too," Bobby said. "He still has friends in the Department."

"He thought we both got a rotten deal. And he knows something about that."

"If…If you need it," Bobby said hesitantly. "You can use my money. With the sale of the house and this job…"

"That's a nice offer," Alex responded. "But I'll be fine for a while. I've got Joe's benefits that I've rarely touched. I've got a nice cushion. Enough that I'm going take a little time and consider things. My Dad said I should think of this as a great opportunity. I'm actually starting to believe that."

Bobby felt enormously relieved. He knew Alex's finances were in much better shape than his own, but he didn't know how much better. He still would make sure she could make use of his money if she needed it, and if anything did happen to him, most of his worldly goods, whatever they might be, would go to her. He wouldn't reveal that bit of information to her, any more than he would tell her he also had serious doubts about the FBI's plans and the people he had to work with.

"Good, good," he said. "I guess we both should thank of this that way. Not many people get this sort of chance to review their lives."

"You don't seem to be taking it," Alex said gently.

"Well, I did have all that time earlier."

"And you decided to come back." She examined him closely.

"Uh, yea." Bobby stood, walked to the sink, and refilled his coffee cup. He sensed they were entering a territory he really didn't want to visit.

"Why did you come back, Bobby? You never really told me why. I'm glad—very glad—that you did. But why?"

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, told you. I didn't want Moran and the Brass to win. I wanted to prove I was a good cop."

Alex stood and walked up to him. "Those are reasons, Bobby, but all you went through…Do they begin to cover it?"

He wished, not for the first time, that she wasn't so kind and good, so smart and beautiful, that she didn't smell so wonderful. He had to tell her the truth. Nichols was right. They kept hurting each other because they didn't want to hurt each other. He might never see her again. She'd saved his life and his sanity so many times. She'd trusted him so many times, even when she shouldn't, and she was doing it again. He turned and stared into the sink.

"You," he said. "I came back because of you."

"But you're leaving again," Alex said plaintively.

"You…You want me to stay?"

"What I want," Alex said. "And what you need to do are different things. But you'd stay if I asked you."

"You're the only important thing," he confessed. "If you don't want me to do this…"

"You didn't ask my opinion when you agreed to do this." Alex was very close to him now, and it was becoming more difficult for Bobby to think.

"That was before. Before I knew. When I thought it was just me, and not me and you."

"You need to do this," Alex said. "And I think I understand why. You'll stay in touch?"

"That's one reason why I came. I told Stahl that you had to get updates. That things never go well if I don't talk to you. I brought the contact information with me. It's with the rest of the stuff on the table." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't want you to think that I expected you to do this, Alex. I just hoped you would."

She touched his chest, and Bobby took a sharp breath.

"Do you know you've called me by my first name all the time you've been here?" she asked.

"I…It didn't seem…It doesn't." Bobby realized his back was against the sink.

"How long will you be gone?"

There was a longing in her voice Bobby had never heard before.

"About four to six months."

"I don't trust them, Bobby, like I said." She looked up at him, and Bobby wondered how she could seem so much taller than him. She clutched his shirt in her hands. "You will come back."

"I'll do everything I can to do that," Bobby said. He couldn't and wouldn't lie to her. He knew that there was a good chance he might not return. An hour ago this didn't matter to him; now it mattered a great deal.

"This isn't because you don't think your life isn't worth anything, is it?"

"I don't think so. But I don't have a lot to lose."

"You have me now," Alex said.

Bobby stared at her and wondered, as he often had, how Alex could be so calm in the middle of a great storm. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled his head down so that their foreheads touched.

"There's one thing I have to know, that we have to do, before you go," she whispered.

And she kissed him. It wasn't the brush on the cheek Bobby gave her at Major Case; this was a full scale assault on his mouth, one that he offered no resistance to, partly because of shock, partly because he welcomed it.

"Alex," he breathed when she finally released his mouth. "Do you really want…"

"Yes," she whispered. "I can't let you go without this."

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. "Are you sure about this? Of course you are," he said in response to her sigh.

She slipped from his arms. "C'mon," she said and gently took his hand. She started to lead him to her bedroom.

"Alex…It's been a long time since I…"

"Me too," she said gently. "But I think it's a lot like riding a bike. We'll remember."

They'd reached her bedroom door. Bobby stopped and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alex…You need to know that I don't have anything for protection."

"I've go that covered." She pulled him gently into the room. She saw her wedding photo on the dresser and quickly placed it face down. She turned to Bobby, and her calm exterior broke for a moment. "Sorry," she said shyly. "I didn't exactly plan this." She released Bobby's hand.

He studied her. Her features were more familiar to him than his own. He realized she was taking a huge leap in caring for him, and that she knew the terrible potential costs of this leap.

"I love you, Alex," he said.

Tears formed in her eyes. Bobby stepped up to her and wrapped his arms around her.

"Like I said," he whispered. "If you don't want me to do this, I won't."

"You'd give me that much power over you?"

"You already have that much power over me. It's not mine to give. It just is."

She shivered in his arms. "No," she said fiercely. "I won't. I can't use that power. I love you. I love you because you are what you are. I can't ask you not to be and do what you are."

Bobby's eyes now filled with tears.

"It's been a while since I did this," he said. "I want this to be special. It means a lot to me. And you have to understand, that I have to go tomorrow."

"I know. I understand," Alex said. "But I can't let you go without doing this." She guided him to the bed.

Alex yawned, stretched, and reached for Bobby. She became fully awake when she realized he wasn't beside her in the bed. Her brief panic ended when she felt the warmth of the sheets and pillows. She turned and saw Bobby seated in the battered old chair that used to be her father's. She smiled at him.

"I'm sorry," Bobby said in a voice husky with sleep. "I woke up and then I just wanted to look at you."

Alex's heart filled and overflowed.

"I know," Bobby said. "You thought that I had left."

"I was sleepy and not thinking clearly. But, yea, the thought crossed my mind."

He smiled and stood. He wore a T-shirt and boxers, but still shivered in the cold morning air.

"Come back to bed," Alex said. "Get warmed up."

He slipped beneath the covers and wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you for last night. You were wonderful. I didn't hurt you?"

Alex smiled. "Far from it. You were wonderful. We should have done this a long time ago."

Bobby lay back on the pillows, and Alex rested on top of him. "I think I've loved you for a long time," he confessed. "Maybe since I first met you in Deakins' office. But I couldn't admit it for a long time."

"You hid it well," Alex said. "God, all the time we wasted. And now…" She buried her face in his chest and clutched at his T-shirt."

"I'm sorry…"

"No. Don't do that. Don't blame yourself. Don't always blame yourself."

"But if I'd just had the guts to say something…"

Alex brushed her lips across his cheek. "I could've said something too. And even if you'd said something, I probably would've freaked out."

Bobby's hands tangled in her hair. "And if you'd said something to me, I'd probably have done the same thing. One reason why I didn't say anything was because I was afraid you'd run away. And just being with you, working with you meant so much. I couldn't risk losing you."

Alex nestled Bobby's neck.

"Alex. I promise you. I'll do everything I can to get back to you. But I have to do this. I owe Ross. Somehow, I owe myself."

"You're sure you're not doing this out of some guilt trip or death wish?"

He looked at her, and Alex swam in his great dark eyes.

"Not now. I have too much to live for."

Alex kissed him.

They made love again, and tried to remember every sight and smell and taste and touch. As she rested in Bobby's arms and drifted towards sleep, Alex murmured, "Don't wake me up when you go, Bobby. Just go."

He brushed his lips across her hair. "I will. I love you."

"I love you," she said.

When she woke several hours later, he was gone.

Alex was surprised that Stahl kept her word and contacted her. She was even more surprised when the FBI agent gave her sketchy updates about Bobby and notes from him. Alex clung to those notes. Seeing and touching them gave her a physical connection to him. She knew that he received her letters because he referenced them in his. She found great comfort in knowing that somewhere in the world Bobby Goren lived.

Her life was blessedly busy. She spent a lot of time with Nate, who was becoming a remarkable person. She dealt with Bobby's financial affairs, which were easy to manage. She read and thought. She supplemented her income by working occasionally for Deakins' firm. She sent out her resume and was surprised that she had several good job offers to consider. She was glad for all of this activity because it kept her from dwelling about Bobby.

It was the middle of spring, and summer loomed on the horizon. It had been nearly four months since Bobby had left, and for the first time a week went by with no word from Stahl. In spite of her unease, Alex didn't call the FBI agent. Alex knew she had to wait for contact. Stahl had warned her that once the mission was in full operation, communication with Bobby would be difficult if not impossible. Alex's dread grew as a second, third, and fourth week went by with no word from the FBI. Alex knew of people who'd gone on undercover operations and disappeared. No one knew what happened to them. Alex thought that knowing something, anything—no matter how horrible—had to be better than a terrible ignorance.

Near the middle of the fourth week, Alex was ready to say the hell with the rules and call Stahl. Then, at a little after eight one morning, she got the call she desperately wanted and horribly feared.

"Ms. Eames, this is Agent Stahl. About Mr. Goren…"

END CHAPTER TWO


	3. Chapter 3

Very dark and violent. You've been warned.

CHAPTER THREE

They kept him blindfolded nearly all of the time when he wasn't in the tiny cell where it was so dark he couldn't see anything. There were a few moments when he could see some light through the cloth's corners as he was dragged to some room to be interrogated, but he couldn't tell if the light came from the sun or some artificial light. He was always hungry or thirsty and usually both. The hours he spent in a terribly hot room brought back horrible memories of his time at Tate, but the hours spent in a terribly cold place were nearly as bad. His captors yanked him from the hot room to the cold one so quickly several times that he thought the sweat froze on his body. They never let him sleep more than two or three hours at a time, and the lack of sleep was more painful than the lack of food and water. They often interrogated him for hours, and he was frequently bound and left in painful positions. He was fairly certain his right shoulder was dislocated; his right knee was swollen and painful; and his right foot numb. He was sure he was close to losing his mind. He couldn't tell what was real and what was a hallucination. He thought that he hadn't told his captors any useful information, but he couldn't be sure. When he was in the tiny cell, he occupied his mind with trying to figure out what went wrong. The mission was going well. He'd made contact with some lower ranking members of a drug and gun smuggling gang, and they led him to men higher on the gang's food chain. He'd passed this information back to the CIA and the FBI and was told the information was very valuable. But he couldn't figure out what happened on the night when he was wakened from his always light sleep by sounds outside his hotel room. Before the door was smashed open and angry men with big guns rushed in, he was able to destroy what few documents might be of value to the invaders. As much as it pained him, he destroyed Alex's letters as soon as he read them. He would always take a moment to hold them to his face and catch her scent before he shredded and burned them. The invaders were furious that he didn't possess anything—not a gun, not a cell phone, not any papers—that they could hold against him. There was only his passport, which they waved in front of him as they screamed at him. Wearing only his boxers, he was hustled out of the room. They threw a hood over his head before they got to the stairs, and he wrenched his right knee when he tripped. It was the first of many pains he'd receive.

Alex kept him alive and clinging to whatever sanity he had left. She waited for him in a bright, warm corner of his mind. She was warm when he froze; cool when he burned. Her light shone through the darkness surrounding him. He could fight the pain, the hunger, the thirst, the exhaustion, as long as he could crawl to that corner and rest in Alex's arms. He desperately hoped that she had some idea of where he was and that his mission had some success. He was enormously grateful that they'd made love before he left. Those memories sustained him even though he thought he'd never see her again. He hoped she'd learn what had happened to him. The thought of her waiting year after year for news terrified him.

His refusal to speak and his calm acceptance of whatever they did to him baffled and frustrated his captors. Their actions became more violent and desperate, and he became convinced they were close to killing him. He was very sick—he thought he might have pneumonia—and wondered if he'd die before they killed him. They dragged him to yet another interrogation, and he smiled as they tried again, using some of the same techniques he once used, to get him to confess and give them information. There was a new voice, a new interrogator, who seemed older and of a higher rank than his other captors. This new man was quickly incensed and jumped to his feet and slammed him from the chair to the ground. Dazed, he was dragged to his feet, his hands bound, and he was hung from a hook in the ceiling. The rope burned and cut into his wrists, and the muscles in his arms and back screamed in pain. They hit his naked back and legs with whips and sticks, and blood began to stream down his body. He was so weak that he could only moan lowly in pain. He began to drift in an out of consciousness, and they finally let him down and dragged him back to the tiny, dark cell.

He lay in the cold, damp darkness. He couldn't move without causing great, terrible pain. He struggled to find the place in his mind where Alex waited, but it hurt so much to think, to breathe, to live. He felt blood pooling beneath him as he fell unconscious.

The snaps and pops of gunfire and angry shouts woke him. He was curled into a fetal position, and he stared at the cell door. He heard the rattle of a key in the lock, and the door flew open. The blazing light stabbed his eyes, and he feebly raised his hands.

"Alex…Alex," Bobby thought. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you. Alex…"

END CHAPTER THREE


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"You were supposed to take care of him," Alex said coldly to Stahl as she entered the FBI agent's car. Alex took refuge, as she often did, in anger to hide her terror and sadness.

Stahl was about to launch into the prepared FBI speech expressing regrets and condolences. She'd given the speech a few times, but wasn't used to it, and she hoped she'd never have to give it so many times that she became used to it. She didn't believe in everything that speech said under the best of circumstances, and this was far from one of those. She agreed with Alex Eames. Robert Goren was the FBI's responsibility—more than that, he was HER responsibility. Beyond her professional interest in the man, Stahl had come to like Robert Goren, even though he'd entered her life as a giant pain in the butt. But she was impressed by his dogged determination to do right by his late captain, and then by his quiet refusal to be frightened by any threats. His intelligence and integrity impressed her enough that she pushed for Goren to take Danny Ross' place in the undercover operation, and Ross' admiration and respect for Goren were also factors. Her battle to get Goren on the mission was made more difficult because of his connections to Declan Gage, even though those connections were severed long before Gage embarrassed and humiliated the Bureau and himself. Fortunately, Goren possessed several advantages, including the knowledge of several languages and a facility for learning new ones; an extraordinary memory; and a talent for undercover work.

Goren's work more than justified Stahl's faith in him. He contacted the bad guys, which led him to even worse and more powerful guys. After a few weeks, one of Stahl's bosses was ready to offer Goren a permanent position with the Bureau, an offer she was certain Goren would politely decline. Stahl never got the chance to see if she was right. Hassan tried to play one too many factions against another, and his body soon dangled from the balcony of the bullet ridden colonial monstrosity that served as his made up country's royal palace. Hassan knew nothing about Goren and had never met the man, but someone among his followers had betrayed Goren. Someone else got the news of Goren's betrayal out to the FBI and CIA, but it took a week for this news to reach someone who could make decisions. Another week passed before Stahl and others convinced their superiors of the need to rescue Goren (Stahl was convinced that most of the bosses agreed to save Goren only because they were afraid what the man might reveal under torture). It took another week to prepare the operation to rescue Goren. Bets were laid on whether Goren would be found dead, insane, or not at all.

Stahl didn't welcome the prospect of facing Alex Eames. Stahl liked Eames. She thought that if they had met under different circumstances they might have become friends or at least able to share their frustrations with the stupid men in their male dominated worlds. Eames' history and her devotion to Goren impressed Stahl, although the agent couldn't quite figure out their relationship. It was more than a partnership, more than a friendship, but if it was a romantic relationship, both parties were doing a great job of hiding it. It made sense that Goren made Eames his contact and beneficiary—aside from an elusive nephew the Bureau had yet to find (Stahl would have to have some words with some people about that) and cousins in Minnesota, Goren was alone.

The phone call she'd made to Eames was one of the hardest Stahl had ever had to make. The FBI agent sensed that this drive was going to be one of the hardest she'd ever have to make. At least Eames wasn't blubbering and crying. Stahl found the other woman's cold anger easier to deal with.

"Yes," Stahl said without looking at Alex. "We were supposed to take care of him. I promised that. I'm sorry. I really am. I'm still learning what happened. I can tell you that the Bureau owes Mr. Goren a lot. So does his country."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? To help Bobby?" Alex asked bitterly. "You care less about him than the department did."

Stahl stared at the road for several seconds. "There's a lot of people in the Bureau that feel that way," she admitted. "But I'm not one of them. And the Bureau is paying for his care and will continue to do so as long as he needs it. He will be well compensated. His efforts will be rewarded."

"That won't mean much if…" Alex choked and stared out the window. "I'm sorry," she said after a few moments. "I'm angry and scared. I know you're trying to do the right thing. You seem to really care about and appreciate Bobby. But so many people have used him and then ignored him or did something worse."

"I think I understand a little," Stahl said. "I don't know what my word is worth to you right now, but I swear to you that I will help Mr. Goren every way that I can. He's a hero as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you," Alex said warmly. "How long has he been here?"

"A little over a day. We flew him here as soon as it seemed safe. We've been able to debrief him and get a great deal of information from him, but he's not in great shape."

Alex bit her lip.

"He's asked constantly about you," Stahl continued. "The rescue unit reported that he was talking about you and worried that you wouldn't know what was happening to him."

"Oh, Bobby," Alex murmured.

"We have the best people we can get for him," Stahl said. She carefully maneuvered her car into a large parking garage.

Stahl thought that Eames was doing a good job of hiding most of her anxiety. Stahl parked the car and made a call as they walked into the hospital.

"He's in a private room," Stahl explained to Alex as they rode the elevator. "We have a guard outside all the time, just in case, but we think he's safe here."

Alex wondered if Stahl could hear her heat thumping. "Will his doctors be there?"

"The nurses told me they're on the rounds and should be seeing him this morning."

The elevator stopped, and Alex followed Stahl down the hallway. Stahl stopped at the nurse's station. "We're here to see Mr. Goren," she told the nurse sitting behind the desk.

"Janie is his nurse this morning," the nurse said. "And she's with him right now." She studied Alex. "Are you Ms. Eames?"

"Yes."

"Oh, good," the nurse said warmly. "He hasn't said very much except about you. And maybe you can get him to eat something. He's becoming one of our favorite patients, but we can't get him to eat much."

"Can Ms. Eames see him?" Stahl asked.

"Of course," the nurse said. "Room 412. Just over there."

Alex knew enough about hospital procedures from her sister and sister-in-law who were nurses that patients in rooms near the nurses' desks were often ones the hospital staffs were most worried about. A young, neatly dressed man sat outside 412, and he stood when Alex and Stahl approached him.

"Agent Robbins," Stahl said. "Everything ok?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"This is Alex Eames, Mr. Goren's friend and contact."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'll need to see some ID."

"Of course." As she reached for her ID, Alex realized she still wasn't used to not having a badge.

The young agent examined Alex's driver's license closely. His care both annoyed and reassured Alex, who resented that he was keeping her from Bobby but appreciated that he took his role as guard so seriously.

"Thank you," the guard said. "One of the nurses is in there."

"Go ahead, Ms. Eames," Stahl said. "I just need to get an update from Agent Clusky."

Alex strongly suspected Stahl didn't need an update, but she was grateful for the chance to see Bobby alone. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in," a warm female voice said.

Alex hesitated for a moment and then opened the door.

"That's a brave woman," Clusky said as the door closed behind Alex. "That guy is really hurt in a lot of ways. Does she know what she's getting into?"

"I think she has a good idea," Stahl said admiringly. "Which is why you're right. She's a brave person."

The light in the room was very dim, and it took a moment for Alex's eyes to adjust. She remembered that Stahl told her that Bobby was kept in nearly total darkness or blindfolded for nearly all of his time as a captive. His eyes needed some time to adjust. The room's light came from the heavily curtained window and the light over the bed. On the table next to the bed Alex saw a bowl containing a mound of pink stained bandages. The nurse hovering over the bed turned to look at Alex.

"I'll be done in a just a moment. I've just changed his bandages and given him some painkillers," she said softly. She turned back to her patient. "You have a visitor, Mr. Goren."

The nurse gathered her materials and walked away from the bed. As she passed Alex, she asked, "Are you Alex?"

Alex, her eyes focused on Bobby, nodded.

"Good to meet you. He's said very little, but he's asked about you." The nurse regarded Bobby with great affection. "He seems to be a very good man."

"He is," Alex declared.

"Hit the call button if you need anything. He's on some pretty strong painkillers, so I'm afraid he'll be out soon. I'll let you know when his doctors show up."

"Thank you," Alex said.

Bobby stirred on the bed. He winced and blinked when the nurse opened the door and the light from the hall shot in the room. He raised his left hand to try to shield his eyes.

"Please," he murmured.

Alex's heart leaped at the sound of his voice, and then fell when she saw the bandages on his arm. She slowly stepped closer to the bed, and she saw the bruises on his face. His skin was loose from a sudden loss of weight, his eyes sunk in dark circles, and he was a terrible, pale color. His lips were chapped and cracked, and his closely cropped hair formed a grey fringe around his head. He looked awful.

Alex froze. "Can I do this?" she thought. "He's been through so much. How can I do this? What can I do?" She took a deep breath. "I'm all he's got. More than that, I love him. I have to do this." She stepped closer to the bed.

"Bobby…"

He blinked. It couldn't be, could it? He thought he'd heard her voice earlier, but it was so soft and low he couldn't be sure, and even now he thought this was some trick his exhausted and confused mind was playing on him.

"Bobby, it's me."

He closed his eyes. Alex, that was Alex's voice. Her scent reached him. He opened his eyes and looked into her sea green eyes.

"Hey," Alex whispered. Her hand hovered very close to his cheek. Bobby turned his head so that his cheek touched her hand, and the warmth of her touch spread through him.

"Hey," he rasped. "Are you real?"

She forced down the lump in her throat. "Yea, I'm real."

He blinked and struggled against the painkillers in and the exhaustion of his body. "I…I'm sorry. I tried to be careful. I really did." He hadn't said so much in one time since his rescue. It hurt for him to speak, and he couldn't raise his voice above a whisper.

Her palm rested against his cheek. "You promised me that you'd come back," she said in a thick voice. "You kept your promise."

"I don't know what happened," Bobby said. He coughed, and tears formed in his eyes.

"Here." Alex seized the cup on the bedside table and held its straw to Bobby's lips. He sipped the water for a long time.

"Thank you," he whispered. He was at the end of his strength. "Please…Stay?"

"No one's going to make me go away," Alex vowed.

Bobby's eyes fluttered and closed.

"No one," Alex whispered. "Not even me."

END CHAPTER FOUR


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Alex watched Bobby sleep for the next two hours. He stirred fitfully several times, occasionally murmuring a few frightened words. She gently touched him and whispered a few comforting words. It didn't seem very much to her, but it calmed him and he fell back into a deep sleep.

"We should've had you here sooner," one of his nurses said. "He hasn't slept well since he got here."

"He doesn't sleep well under the best of circumstances," Alex said.

"Maybe you could get him to eat," the nurse said. "We haven't been able to get more than a few bites in him."

"I'll try," Alex said.

"I need to ask, Ms. Eames," the nurse said cautiously. "It can be a big help to us. What is your relationship with Mr. Goren?"

"Please call me Alex. And I'm not quite sure how to answer that question." Alex studied Bobby. "We were cops. Partners. Best friends. We both left the force recently. It wasn't our choice. Just before he left on this job for the FBI, we…" Alex shrugged. "Things changed. I love him very much. Enough that I let him go on this job."

The nurse smiled at Alex. "Thank you," she said. "He's lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky to have him," Alex answered.

Bobby's doctors drifted in and out of his room. They recited the litany of his injuries—the results of weeks with too little water and food; exposure to extreme heat and cold; a dislocated right shoulder; a wrenched right knee with torn ligaments and tendons; deep bruises over his body; deep cuts on his back, his wrists and his ankles. These were just his physical injuries. He was afraid of the dark but terribly sensitive to light. He hated to wake up alone, but was terrified of being touched. The doctors were amazed by Alex's ability to calm him.

He woke violently at one point, apparently escaping a nightmare. He clutched Alex's hand so tightly that tears came in her eyes.

"Are you real?" he rasped.

"Yea. Here, have some water." She held a cup to his mouth and tipped its straw so that he could drink.

He sipped the water gratefully. "Thank you. Where am I?"

"A hospital in New York City. You're safe. All of the people here are here to help you."

"The mission. Was it a success?"

"Aside from what happened to you, it was a great success," Alex said.

"What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"The Feds aren't sure what happened, but they know two things. One is that you didn't do anything wrong. The other is that Hassan isn't the fake king of a fake country any more."

Bobby winced as he moved on the bed. Alex pushed the call button, and a nurse responded within minutes. Because Alex trusted her, so did Bobby. The nurse gently examined Bobby and gave him several painkillers and antibiotics, and Bobby drifted into sleep. This pattern continued over the next two days. A confused and frightened Bobby woke from a troubled, short sleep. Alex calmed him, and she and the nurses tried to get him to eat something. He managed a few bites, spoke briefly, and then fall asleep. Alex maintained a constant vigil by his bed. She didn't want him to wake up alone or faced with strangers. The hospital staff finally convinced her to leave for a few hours, and Stahl provided an agent to drive her home. Holding her accumulated mail, Alex walked through her house. Her phone blinked at her, but Alex wanted only to take a long bath and sleep.

There was a knock at her door, and Alex groaned. "I shouldn't answer it," she thought. But she dragged herself to the door and looked outside. Two men in suits stood there.

"Cops," Alex thought. "NYPD, probably. What do they want?"

She opened the door. "May I help you?"

"Alex Eames?" the older man asked.

"Yes, but you already know that," Alex said with a confidence she didn't feel.

"I'm Detective Jahnke," the cop said after a moment. "And this is Detective Rosario." Jahnke showed his badge. "We're looking for Robert Goren, and hoped you could help us."

Alex leaned against the door frame with a feigned casual air. She doubted it completely fooled the two detectives, but it effectively blocked them from entering her house and gave her a chance to shut the door in their faces if she wanted.

"And why do you think I know where Mr. Goren is?" she asked amiably. She wasn't sure what the men knew—for all she knew, they might know exactly where Bobby was. Stahl had assured her that Bobby and his mission were deeply guarded secrets, but there was always the possibility of a leak. And there was the question of exactly why these two detectives wanted to speak with Bobby.

Jahnke managed to hide his irritation. "You're his former partner. You were close. Mr. Goren hasn't been seen since the day he left the force."

Alex frowned. "Forced to leave," she said quietly.

"Fired," Rosario said.

Alex smiled. "Ah. I think I know who the bad cop is."

"Ms. Eames," Jahnke said. "We need to speak with Mr. Goren regarding an internal NYPD investigation."

"I read the papers," Alex said calmly. "Are you here on behalf of the Brass?"

Jahnke and Rosario glanced at each other.

"You know, you guys keep answering questions without opening your mouths. You're too obvious to be IAB."

"Look." Rosario stepped forward threateningly. Alex's refusal to back away clearly surprised him.

"If you don't have a warrant," Alex said. "Please leave."

"We asked you a simple question," Jahnke said.

"Oh, now we have two bad cops," Alex said. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you where Mr. Goren is."

"Can't or won't?" Rosario asked.

"Good afternoon." Alex stepped back and shut the door in the men's faces.

She leaned with back against the door and took a deep breath. She heard the detectives arguing.

"The Chief isn't going to like this," Rosario said. "We have to get to her and him before…"

"Shut up, you idiot," Jahnke said. "She could hear us."

The men walked away, and a shaky Alex moved to her bedroom. She examined the rooms and their contents as she walked through them, but nothing seemed out of place. She reached the sanctuary of her bedroom and tried to calm her thoughts. Her bravado in front of the two detectives cost her a great deal, and she was very tired from her time at the hospital with Bobby.

She sat heavily on her bed. "All right," she thought. "They'll keep their eyes on me. I don't want them to find Bobby. Even if they don't hurt him, he can do without the trouble." She stood and pulled her emergency bag from the closet. She threw several additional items into it. She pulled out her cell phone and then at the phone on the table near her bed. "They could have something on the cell, but it doesn't look like they're been in the house to set up a bug."

Roughly an hour later, one of Alex's neighbors, Regina Santelli was finishing up the morning dishes when she glanced out her kitchen window. She saw Alex slip out and lock her back door. Alex carried a large duffel back and a backpack. She looked carefully around her. To Mrs. Santelli's surprise, Alex didn't walk over to her garage or around to the front of her house. Instead, she moved quickly back to where her garage met the alley. Alex slipped through the fence to the ally. Mrs. Santelli was not a horribly nosy person, but she was intrigued enough to watch her neighbor walk up the ally to where a black car pulled to meet her. Alex slipped into the car, and it moved away. Mrs. Santelli knew that Alex had recently left the police force, and, while Alex hadn't revealed any details, Mrs. Santelli knew it had been an unhappy and unwilling departure on Alex's part. She hoped Alex might be getting a new job. She also wondered what had happened to the big, gentle man who'd frequently appeared at Alex's hours. Alex had introduced him as her partner on the force, and he had occasionally and cheerfully helped Mrs. Santelli carry her groceries and plant some flowers. She hoped he was doing well and that he and Alex were still friends. She'd have to ask Alex the next time she saw her.

END CHAPTER FIVE


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

"Alex," he murmured and clutched his pillow. His medicated and exhausted mind managed to recognize that the pillow wasn't Alex, and he couldn't remember where he was. He sat up too quickly and tried not to be sick as he stared around him. He gasped for breath and realized that he was in a dimly lit hospital room. He struggled to sort out the memories jagging through his brain. He wasn't sure what was true and what was imagination; he hoped a lot was imagination. He was in pain, but something kept the pain at bay, and he thought he must be on some powerful drugs. He was terribly cold and alone. He reached for the covers, but his hands were heavily bandaged and he couldn't get a good grip. He fumbled for the call button. The door opened and briefly sent a shaft of light across the bed. Bobby winced and turned his head.

"I'm sorry," Alex said warmly and gently. "I didn't know you were awake."

He blinked and looked up in her eyes, and remembered that he'd awaken like this before. He saw terrible worry in her eyes, and he hated that he was the source of it.

"It's ok." It still hurt him to speak, and his voice was a raspy whisper. "My eyes need to get used to the light."

Alex reached for his hand. He didn't pull away from her, but he didn't squeeze her hand. "The nurse will be in here soon to check on you and give you your meds. And some breakfast."

Bobby turned away to try to hide the revulsion he felt at the thought of food.

"You ate a little more yesterday," Alex said. "If you eat a little more every day…" She stopped speaking. She sounded like a mother trying to get a three-year-old to eat his vegetables.

Bobby stared at his hands. Neither he nor Alex mentioned that he barely managed to keep anything he'd eaten yesterday in his stomach. He glanced at Alex. She was tired and grey, and dark circles surrounded her eyes.

"You look tired," he said cautiously. "Are you ok?"

Alex sat in what had become her chair in the past few days. She knew she couldn't lie to Bobby, any more than she could tell him everything about the storm surrounding them.

"Bobby," she said gently. "Don't think that anything is your fault. You did a great thing. You're a hero."

"You have to take care of me," he mumbled.

"I get to take care of you. I want to take care of you."

"What about your family? Have you seen them at all lately?"

Alex hesitated. She'd seen little of her family lately, but taking care of Bobby was far from the only reason for it.

"There's my answer," Bobby said sadly.

"Bobby, it's not what you think. You're not the only reason."

"Then what is? Why don't you tell me?"

Alex desperately wished the nurse would arrive.

"It's complicated. It's about me as much or more as it is about you." She saw him slipping into despair and away from her, and she didn't know how to reach him.

"You shouldn't…You don't…Have to do this," Bobby said flatly. "And it's pointless."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a lost cause, Alex. How much can one person take?"

"I can't imagine everything that you've been through, Bobby. But you've always beaten the odds. You became a good man in spite of your parents. You've always helped—help—people."

"And what good has it done? Helped a few people maybe?" Alex watched helplessly as Bobby fell deeper and deeper.

"It's too late," he continued. "There's too much damage." He wasn't crying, but his voice was terribly flat and empty. "You need to give up, Alex."

"What?"

"I'm not going to get better. I'm not coming back from this. Please, go have a life. Don't waste it on me."

"Bobby, how can you think I'd be wasting my life helping you?" She reached for him, but he jerked away.

"You still have time. Go. Have a life. Have a good life."

"Dammit, Bobby! I have a life. I love you. And that's good!"

"Listen to me. I don't have a future."

She seized his hands, and he cried out in pain. "You have a future. You have choices. You can teach. You can write. You can work for Deakins. The Feds are impressed with you and might offer you a job. And you have me, Bobby."

"I nearly got you killed. I ruined your career. My God, Alex. The lives I've ruined. Deakins, Ross. I got Ross killed."

She squeezed his hands, and he cried out again. "Is this the only way to reach you? Bobby, you know that Ross' position was compromised long before you—and I—started looking into this mess. Deakins has told us that we saved him. What happened to me wasn't your fault. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that. You were a victim in all of that too. Above everything, you've made me a better person."

"I can't see that, Alex. All I can see…I can't see how I can help anyone now, especially you."

She hadn't planned to tell him about the investigations into the Brass, and why she rarely went home, and that when she did a FBI agent accompanied her. She didn't plan to tell him that her few visits with her family were in hidden places, or that her brothers in the department were ignoring questions from other cops, or that his friends had also received visits from Detectives Zahnke and Rosario. She thought he needed to rest and recover, but now she realized he needed to have a purpose, a reason to get better.

"Bobby." She released his hands and leaned forward. "Please. I need you. I need you a lot right now."

"What for? To find another way to ruin your life?"

"Stop it!" Alex took a deep breath and forced down her anger and frustration. "To fight."

He blinked. "What?"

"The reason I haven't seen a lot of my family isn't you…"

Bobby snorted.

"Not only you," Alex said reluctantly.

He studied her. He was interested in spite of his depression.

"Something's going on with the department's Brass," Alex said. "There's an investigation. It's apparently targeting Moran. Some rumors say the Feds are behind it. Some say it's Jack McCoy."

"McCoy hates bad cops almost as much as you do."

Alex almost smiled. She'd been right in guessing that he couldn't resist helping anyone with their troubles, especially her.

"I think the Brass—at least part of it—is trying to perform damage control. When I left here the first time, two detectives were waiting at my house."

An angry spark appeared in Bobby's eyes.

"They said they were looking for you, but I'm sure they were checking up on me, too. They weren't IAB. They sounded like they were working for Moran."

Someone who didn't know Bobby might not have recognized the emotion in his eyes, but Alex saw it clearly.

"That'd be like Moran," he said calmly. "Use cops to cover himself."

"I told them I didn't know where you were. Infuriated them. They thought they could intimidate me."

"They obviously didn't do much research. You can't be intimidated." Bobby's eyes narrowed. "Did they harass you?"

"They tried to. And they would now if they could find me." Alex grinned. "The FBI—at least Stahl—has been good about helping stay underground. Of course, if the Feds have their own investigation going, they've got good reasons for keeping us away from the Department. But I've been able to get home and get stuff and to see my family."

"Where have you been sleeping?"

"I think you know it's mostly been here," Alex said. "And don't feel bad about it. I'm comfortable. I'm safe. And I sleep a lot better near you and knowing you're all right."

Bobby was silent for several moments. "Do you have any idea of what they want with us?"

"My brother Mike—who's thoroughly disgusted with the way we've both been treated—has heard rumors that Moran or someone thinks we know something."

"It's good to know he's on our side," Bobby said.

"There's apparently something of a civil war in the department," Alex said. "It's been brewing since Frank Adair was arrested. There was Deakins' resignation. A lot of cops knew he could've fought, but didn't for the department. There was Copa."

Bobby frowned.

"Bobby, don't. Word got out that you caught him in a lie. That he left his partner to get killed so Copa could have a quickie with his girlfriend, and how Moran wanted to cover it all up, even if a cop killer went free. There are a lot of cops who understood why you went undercover at Tate."

"So who put that rat in my desk?" Bobby asked wearily.

"I know a lot of cops who thought you did a great thing with that job. You know I thought that once I cooled down. You brought down two very bad cops." Alex leaned forward. "What I'm getting is that you and I are at the dividing points of divisions in the Department. We're not the causes maybe, but the symbols."

"I don't want to go back there," Bobby said. "But it might be nice to have more of a legacy than that of the "whack job". And you…"

"I'm through with the NYPD," Alex declared. "But I'd like people to know why I left."

There was a knock at the door, and nurse appeared. Alex noticed that Bobby didn't flinch too badly when the hall light flashed through the room.

"Time for your check and meds, Mr. Goren," she said. "And then breakfast."

Bobby managed to keep down several bites of his breakfast.

"All he needed," Alex thought. "Was a problem. Somebody else's problem. I just hope we both can face it."

END CHAPTER SIX


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Alex preferred to meet troubles head on, to face and deal with them. For all of his intellectual skills, Bobby also favored the direct approach. He'd learned the cost of hiding from and ignoring dangers could be very high. But both of them knew the importance of knowing when and how to fight their battles. Neither wanted to fight an unknown enemy, especially when one of them was severely handicapped. Bobby was still physically and mentally hurt. His shoulder was usable, but still weak; he underwent physical therapy for his battered knee while the doctors debated whether it would need surgery. The bandages were off his back, but the scars were frightening. He spoke with psychiatrists, largely because Alex encouraged him, but he still had plenty of nightmares and moments when he woke thinking that he was in that tiny, dark cell. It wasn't a difficult decision for Alex and Bobby to lay low and wait for dangers instead of riding out to meet them.

The hospital was refuge for both of them. The FBI kept its word and oversaw Bobby's care. The Bureau was happy to know where he was, and Agent Stahl was happy to repay Bobby's services. The FBI's protection included Alex, because Stahl recognized Bobby was one of the keys to the case against the drug and gun runners, and that Alex was the key to keeping Bobby happy. Their relationship was symbiotic one, but Alex and Stahl shared the bond of female law enforcement professionals, and each woman thought she might like the other even without that bond.

Stahl quietly approached Alex one afternoon outside Bobby's hospital room. "I need to talk to you, if you have a moment."

"Problem?"

"Maybe. You probably know there's an ongoing investigation into corruption in the upper levels of the NYPD."

"I read the papers," Alex said calmly. "You probably know that if you cut me, I bleed blue. My family's been in the department since they stepped off the boat from Ireland."

"I understand that," Stahl said with a hint of a smile. "I suspect the cops in your family have told you some things about what's going on. I can tell you that the Bureau is part of this investigation. You have no reason to trust me, Alex. I promised to keep Mr. Goren safe, and I didn't."

"You tried," Alex said. "And you've taken very good care of him—and me—since he returned."

"Thank you," Stahl said warmly. "The agents involved in the investigation of the NYPD would like to speak with you and Mr. Goren."

Alex frowned.

"Neither of you are under any suspicion or have any obligation," Stahl added. "I think one of the reasons they'd like to speak to you is because there's so much interest in the two of you from the people who are the objects of the investigation."

Alex sighed. "Bobby and I have talked about that. Neither of us were darlings of the Brass, especially Bobby. We discovered a fake email that was part of a conspiracy to get our former captain to resign. But we couldn't think of anything else that we might know."

"That's one of the incidents that sparked the investigations. A lot of people in the NYPD seem to think former captain Deakins is something of a hero," Stahl said.

"We'd be two of them," Alex responded. "He saved the department a great deal of trouble. Looks like it's going to get it anyway."

"Well, it's one thing these agents would like to talk to you about, preferably before anyone from the NYPD does."

Alex frowned. "I'll talk with them. But I'm not sure Bobby is ready to be questioned about anything. We'd both definitely be hostile witnesses for anyone defending Moran."

"We're pretty sure that your department knows that we know where Mr. Goren is," Stahl said.

"They want you to give him up?"

"Yes," Stahl said. "The Bureau, as you might guess, is reluctant to do this, because of Mr. Goren's importance to the gun running case. I'm reluctant to do it because I know he's in no shape to deal with an interrogation. And because there are members of the NYPD who are acting like, well…"

"Jerks?" Alex suggested.

"I was trying to think of a more polite term," Stahl said. "But jerks works."

"It's payback." Alex sighed. "From some of the Brass. Some of them are prime examples of the jerk species."

Stahl smiled. "Between you and me, Alex, there are plenty examples in the Bureau."

"Like I said, I'd be happy to speak with your agents," Alex said. "But I'd like to have my lawyer with me. I trust you, but I've seen enough cases of people who got in trouble because they didn't have their lawyer around."

"I don't think you'll need a lawyer, but I can't argue with your reasoning. I'll let the agents know, and tell them they'll need to wait for Mr. Goren's statement." Stahl looked at her watch. "I have to go now, Alex. The agent standing guard is on a break right now, but I think you'll be ok. If you need me, give me a call."

Alex watched Stahl walk away. "I think she means what she says," Alex thought. "I hope she can keep her word."

She turned, gently knocked on Bobby's door, and opened it. Bobby sat up in bed. The blinds were shut against the sun, and the only light in the room came from a soft light over the bed. Bobby was engrossed in a copy of the TIMES, and Alex started when she saw he was wearing glasses.

"Hey," Bobby smiled.

"Hey. Where'd the specs come from?" Alex stepped closer to the bed.

"One of my doctors thought they'd help with the light. I can actually read now. Truth is, I may have needed reading glasses for some time. Stupid male vanity."

He was relaxed and cheerful in a way Alex hadn't seen for a long time. "You look good in them. Very distinguished."

"Distinguished. Sound like a code word for old." Bobby said wryly. "But if it lets me read without a headache, I'll take it."

Alex glanced at the newspaper. The TIMES' headlines weren't as lurid as those in the POST or speculative as those in the LEDGER, but the story was just as clear.

"Maybe," she said cautiously. "You shouldn't be…"

"Alex," he said gently. "I appreciate you're trying to protect me. And that you're good at it. But I want—have—to know what's going on. And remember—you know as well as I do that we always work better together. It's always better when we face things together."

"You finally figured that out," she said softly.

Bobby slowly reached out his left hand to her, and he tentatively touched her hand. "Took me long enough."

"Ok," Alex breathed. "I gotta tell you."

Bobby's hand tightened slightly on hers.

"It's about this investigation of the Brass. I'm not leaving you or angry at you or anything like that. But like I told you, someone from the Department is looking for you."

Bobby's grip eased, and Alex felt the tension ease from him. "You and Stahl are trying to protect me."

"Yea. Stahl's been protecting me too. Doing a good job," Alex said. "The FBI is part of the investigation. The agents in charge of that case want to talk to us. Stahl and I don't think you're ready to talk to them, but I told them I would."

Bobby's eyes grew stormy.

"I'm bringing my lawyer," Alex continued. "Although I really don't think I'll need her. I trust Stahl."

"I trust her," Bobby said softly. "But I'm not so sure about the Bureau." His eyes narrowed. "I'm going with you."

"Bobby. You're in no shape…"

"I'm going with you. Or we'll have it here." Bobby sat up and winced.

"You're still healing," Alex said. This was just one of several reasons why she hadn't wanted to discuss this with Bobby. "Even Stahl doesn't want you to answer questions yet. You're not physically ready yet. And mentally…"

"I'm the whack job," Bobby said bitterly.

"Bobby, no one thinks that…"

He waved his hand to dismiss her words and winced again.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I didn't mean to upset you or hurt you. It's why I didn't want to tell you. But I felt like I had to tell you. Like you said, we're always best if we stick together."

"That's why I have to be with you," Bobby insisted. "We have to face this together. Or are you afraid I'll be a weight around your neck?"

Alex stared at him. The clear, open look in Bobby's eyes was gone, replaced by fear, pain and anger. "No, Bobby. No. I don't think you're a weight. Not at all. That's the last thing I think. I swear. I only want to protect you."

Bobby leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes. He opened them after several moments. "You're probably right," he said wearily. "Just this has left me exhausted. And hurting."

Alex knew Bobby must be horribly tired and in great pain if he admitted feeling anything.

"Bobby, I don't know what to do here," she said. "I don't think that you're ready for any kind of confrontation. I don't doubt your abilities. But you've been through so much." Her heart pounded as if she'd just run a mile.

Bobby gazed at her, and Alex saw that, while he was still exhausted and in pain, the fear and anger had left his eyes.

"I understand," he said. "I trust you." He shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

"I promise you, Bobby," Alex said. "I won't do anything without talking to you. And if your doctors say you're up to it, and you still want to talk to the FBI, then I'm with you."

Bobby yawned. "You gotta a deal."

Alex carefully picked up the paper. "I'll be sure to get you plenty of these."

"No POST," Bobby mumbled. "Can't trust Murdoch."

"Noted," Alex said warmly. "And I'll bring you some magazines and books." She lifted the glasses from Bobby's face and gently placed them on the bedside table.

"Alex. Could you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course." She reached for his hand.

"Thank you. I…It's easier to fall asleep when you're here."

She stayed and held his hand long after she was sure he was asleep. There were moments when she needed to touch him just to be sure he was alive and that he'd returned to her. She finally released his hand, stood, and made sure he was covered and warm. She brushed her lips across his forehead. He didn't wake up, but made a soft, gently sound something close to a contented sigh. She turned off the light over his bed and walked to the door.

She heard faint voices before she opened the door, but the door was thick enough that the voices were garbled. As she carefully opened the door to protect Bobby from the bright light in the hall, Alex could see out to the nurses' station. She recognized the two men standing there. Detectives Jahnke and Rosario were arguing with the nurses.

END CHAPTER SEVEN


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Alex had retained all of her cop instincts. Without thinking, she quickly shut the door and backed up in the room. She pulled her cell phone from her pants pocket and dialed it. As she waited for Agent Stahl to answer, Alex locked the door and moved to the bathroom Bobby shared with the neighboring room. She locked its door as well so that no one could enter Bobby's room by that route. She could just hear Jahnke and Rosario's angry voices as she passed again by the door. Her call went to Stahl's voice mail, and Alex left a terse, tense message.

"Alex?" Bobby's weary voice asked. "What's going on?"

She considered a lie or half truth, but knew that even in his drugged and tired state he'd probably see through it.

"Those two detectives are at the nurse's station," she said as calmly as she could.

Bobby grew pale and sat up slowly. "What do they want?"

"Us, I guess." Alex's eyes moved from Bobby to the door. "I called Stahl, but it went to her voice mail. I hope the nurses can keep them out of here."

"We don't have to say anything to them unless they have a warrant," Bobby said. He was remarkably calm.

"I doubt those two care much about any rules," Alex said. "I'd go look for another FBI agent, but I'm not sure who's on duty or where to find them. Silly us. We didn't think they'd invade the hospital to find you. Is there anyone in the room next door?"

Bobby shook his head. "I don't think so."

"We could always barricade ourselves in the bathroom until help arrives," Alex said.

Bobby shifted painfully on the bed. "If I could get there. Maybe I should just talk to them."

Alex moved closer to the bed. "No," she said firmly. "I'm not entirely sure what those guys want, but I know you're in no shape to deal with it."

The sound of the detectives' angry voices came from behind the door. Alex just made out Jahnke shouting, "We represent the Chief of Detectives…"

"I don't care if you're working for Mayor Bloomberg," the nurse at the desk shouted back. "You're not going anywhere."

Alex's cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She grabbed it and saw Stahl's number. "Agent Stahl…"

"I know," Stahl said. "I've contacted Clusky. He'll be at Mr. Goren's room very soon. I'm on my way back to the hospital. Where are you? Are you ok?"

"I'm in Bobby's room. We're both ok now. I think I hear Clusky outside dealing with the detectives."

"I should've waited for Clusky to get back before I left," Stahl said. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you." Alex shut her phone.

"What's going on?" Bobby's voice was thick, and he slightly slurred the words. Alex thought that even if Jahnke and Rosario got to speak to him, they wouldn't get much out of him.

"Stahl's on the way," Alex said. She focused on the door as if she could will it to protect Bobby from the detectives. "I think the FBI agent is arguing with Jahnke and Rosario."

"It's nice to be so popular," Bobby said. "But I think I liked it better when they ignored me. I wonder how they found me."

"Us," Alex said. "We're in this together."

"Someone in the FBI musta told them," Bobby slurred.

Alex shivered. Bobby was right. Her family knew Bobby was in a hospital, but not which one. Alex was basically living at the hospital. She might have been followed at some point, and that possibility was much preferable to thinking that someone in the FBI had betrayed Bobby and her.

The angry voices outside the door stopped, and Alex held her breath. After a few moments, there was a knock at the door. "Mr. Goren?" the nurse called. "Are you all right?"

Alex carefully and slowly opened the door.

"It's safe," the nurse said. "They left. They were very unhappy, but they left."

Alex looked into the hall. Agent Clusky, his face grim and jaw set, stood in front of the nurses' station.

"How is Mr. Goren?" the nurse asked as she brushed past Alex.

"Sleepy and a little confused," Bobby said goofily. The drugs had finally caught up to him. "And sorry that he's so much trouble."

The nurse smiled. "You're not any trouble at all, even when you're acting silly."

"Go to sleep, Bobby," Alex said gently. "I think everything is ok now. Right?" She turned to the nurse.

"Right," the nurse said.

Bobby fell asleep before the nurse finished checking him. She carefully pulled the sheet and blanket over him. "He's fine," she whispered to Alex.

"Thank you," Alex whispered. "What did they want?"

"They said they were NYPD detectives. That's what their badges and IDs said," the nurse answered. "They said they had to know where Mr. Goren was. That they had to talk to him. They were certain that he was in this hospital and on this floor. I'm not a good liar, Ms. Eames," she said. "I'm afraid I may have tipped them off that their suspicions were correct."

"Don't worry," Alex said. "I'm sure you didn't tell them something they didn't already know."

"I told them Mr. Goren was in no condition to speak to anyone," the nurse said. "And that they didn't have the right to speak with him. They didn't have a warrant or anything like that. They got very hostile at that."

"I bet they did," Alex said wryly. "Thank you. You did the right thing."

There was a soft knock at the door. The nurse warily opened it a few inches. "It's Agent Stahl," she said to Alex. "Should I let her in?"

"I'll go out," Alex said.

"Is he all right?" Stahl asked as Alex stepped from the room.

"Yea. He's asleep. I'm not sure how much he'll remember of this when he wakes up."

"Good," Stahl said with obvious relief. "I'll try to find out how those detectives found out where he was."

"If I were trying to find him," Alex said. "I would've followed me. I know you've done all you could, but I suspect Bobby and I could've found him." Alex paused and shook her head. "That confused even me."

Stahl smiled wanly. "C'mon. I'll buy you a cup of coffee. I don't think they'll be back right away, and even if they do, reinforcements are here."

"The good news," Stahl said as she sat across from Alex in the cafeteria. "Is that it appears all the suspects in the drug and gun running cases are going to cut a deal. But if the NYPD has some investigation going on…"

"I don't think those guys are part of an official investigation," Alex said. "I think it's a response by Chief of Detectives Moran to try to save his own rear end." She smiled. "Bobby would find it funny. All those times we butted heads with the Bureau, and now we're depending on you to protect him."

"I'm not sure how good of a job we're doing at that," Stahl said. "We're going to at least have to move him from his room. And keep a closer watch over you."

Alex was never completely alone after that. She found herself occasionally taking showers she didn't need to get some privacy. The FBI regularly swept her house for bugs. It was annoying for her family. Most of them had some idea of what was going on and were as protective of her as the FBI. Her family didn't know of the seismic change in her relationship with Bobby. And as she sat one day with Bobby, Alex realized she wasn't sure exactly what that relationship was. She loved him. She knew that. While her one night with Bobby was one of the best moments of her life and Alex desperately hoped for more memories like those, Alex didn't know what she and Bobby were to each other. They possessed a strange, intense bond. When he was undercover, she sensed he was in trouble and also knew he was alive. There were times when he was the funny, charming, sweet man she'd always known. But there were times when he was even more of the lost, lonely man she'd seen too much of in the last three years. He no longer said that he was too damaged or unworthy to be saved, but Alex knew he was thinking those words.

It didn't help that Bobby had to relive his torture when he spoke to the FBI. The agents were polite, even kind, but their interest was in putting their cases together. After the interviews, Bobby was exhausted and depressed. His sleep was filled with nightmares, and it could take several days and sessions with psychiatrists before he'd recover. One of his doctors spoke with Alex.

"You mean a great deal to him," he told her.

"He means a lot to me," she responded.

"You know that in the past few years Mr. Goren has lost a great many things that meant a great deal to him. Even defined him," the doctor said.

"I've gone through most of those losses with him," Alex said.

"Right now, Ms. Eames," the doctor said. "You define him. He doesn't have the work that's been his life for so long. He thinks he only has you, and he's afraid—terrified, really—that not only is he not good enough for you, but that he's bad for you."

"He's too hard on himself," Alex said. "He's always been too hard on himself. Mainly because the people he should've been able to trust were hard on him, if they paid any attention to him at all."

The doctor nodded. "That explains a lot. The torture he went through. It's as if he, he expected…"

"He thinks he deserved it?" Alex asked.

"Yes. And he certainly can't think of himself as a hero. The praise just seems to increase his guilt."

After much discussion, the FBI decided not to move Bobby to another hospital, but only to another room. There were no further invasions by the NYPD, and Alex started to hope her and Bobby's troubles might lessen. The memory of their night together before Bobby left on his mission sustained her. She spent many nights in the hospital, especially when Bobby was having a bad time. The nurses stopped trying to shoo her away. Alex wouldn't leave, for one thing, and she immediately and effectively calmed Bobby when he woke from a nightmare. The nurses persuaded Alex to sleep in an actual bed occasionally. One morning, Alex, yawning and running her fingers through her still wet hair, walked towards Bobby's room. As she neared the nurses' station, she saw Agent Stahl, holding two cups of coffee, waiting for her.

"Thanks," Alex said as she accepted one of the cups. "What's wrong?"

Stahl smiled wearily. "You and Goren musta been one helluva team."

"We were. Still are." Alex sipped her coffee. "We may be spending too much time together. You got my coffee right."

"Could we go to the waiting room?" Stahl asked.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Alex asked as she followed Stahl.

"I don't like it much," Stahl answered. "So I'm sure you won't." She sat across from Alex. "You've been following the reports on the NYPD scandal."

"Yea. And I have sources inside the department."

"I can tell you that Chief Kenny Moran will be indicted soon on several charges," Stahl said quietly. "And if the case goes to trial, you and Mr. Goren may be called by the prosecution. You probably figured out that those two detectives were sent to see what Mr. Goren might know and try to intimidate him. And you." Stahl smiled. "As if anyone could intimidate you."

Alex stared into her cup. "I don't know what we know. All I know is that Bobby isn't in any shape to deal with this."

"The one bit of good news I have for you is that the most he'll have to do in the drug and gun running case is testify before a grand jury. The perps have confessed, largely because of his work. They're some very bad people. He salvaged the case. He redeemed Ross' work."

"I'd like to tell one person about that," Alex said. She thought of Zach Nichols, who was still angry and confused about releasing the man ultimately responsible for Ross' death. Alex hadn't seen or spoken with Nichols since Bobby's return. She guessed that the news of Hassan's death hadn't upset the detective and that the news of Ross' vindication would please him.

"More than one person will learn about it," Stahl said carefully. "Much more than one."

Alex looked at Stahl.

"With this corruption case hanging over it," Stahl said. "The NYPD needs good news. The Bureau needs to be seen to be working with the department. Mr. Goren could be a help with both."

"You…You want to publicize what Bobby did," Alex said slowly. "You want Bobby to play hero." She shook her head. "No…No. He'd be a target. Not just to the friends of the guys his testimony will put away. But to the bad cops who already hate him. And he can't—won't—see himself as a hero. His head is too messed up right now. You can't do it to him."

Stahl had the grace to look ashamed. "My hope," she said as if she was trying to convince herself of her words. "Is that Mr. Goren will get the respect and support he deserves."

Alex snorted. "Excuse me, but you don't have a great record with that. And half of the NYPD is against him."

"Mr. Goren knew that," Stahl said. "When he approached us about helping with this investigation, I told him that working with us would turn his own against him. It didn't surprise or upset him. I know why now. I'm not ducking responsibility here, but I want to remind you that he went into this with his eyes open. He knew the costs. He knew the odds."

"You didn't expect him to come back, did you! You didn't want him to come back!"

The few people in the cafeteria turned to look at Alex and Stahl. Alex didn't care. At the moment she was tempted to climb to the top of the Empire State Building and scream out how the FBI and the NYPD had betrayed Bobby.

"Expect?" Stahl said quietly. "I don't know. I knew the odds and costs as well as anyone. But I certainly hoped and wanted that he'd come back."

"Just so it was easier to make your case." Alex was still bitter, but her voice was lower.

"His return did make the case easier," Stahl admitted. "But I've come to respect and like Mr. Goren. He's smart. He's tenacious. He's brave. He's loyal. And he's ethical. I'm not saying I'm a saint. He made me look very good. But I was one of the people who pushed—and pushed very hard—for the mission that rescued him."

"I'm sorry," Alex said softly after a moment. "He's been used so many times."

"Are you sure that you're doing the right thing for him?" Stahl asked carefully.

Alex stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"What do his doctors say? Would this be bad for him?"

"How dare you…" Alex choked.

Stahl leaned forward. "I'm sorry, Alex. I like you. I like your loyalty to Mr. Goren. But is it possible you're too close to him to make a good call here?"

"And you're not too close?" Alex shot back.

"Yes, I am," Stahl said. "Which is why I'm glad you're here to balance me. But neither of us have really talked or heard from Mr. Goren. Do you know what he wants? Or what's best for him?"

Alex stared again into her coffee, but found no answers there. "I don't know what he wants," she admitted. "But I know what he'll do, especially if you put it in terms of helping the case or saving Ross' reputation or protecting other people. He'll do what you ask him to. And he won't think about what it'll cost him."

"I don't pretend to know Mr. Goren," Stahl said. "But I think he deserves the chance to make his own decision about this."

Alex's coffee still failed to provide any answers. "All right," she finally conceded. "You can talk to him about this. But only after his doctors—all of his doctors—agree that he's ok, and after I talk to him."

"Fair enough," Stahl said with obvious relief.

As Alex walked to Bobby's room, she felt as if she'd just lost a battle. By the time she was in the room and looking down at his exhausted and worn face, Alex felt like a traitor. Bobby slept fitfully. Alex knew that his physical and mental therapy session were often very difficult, and yesterday's had obviously been very hard on him. She suddenly wanted to wrap her arms around him and protect him from any and every thing threatening him.

"But he's not one of my nieces and nephews," Alex thought. "And I can't protect him from everything any more than I can them." She shivered. "And Stahl's right. Bobby should make this decision. It's just that I know what that decision will be. And I'll have to watch him go through all of that." Her hand rested gently on his head. He responded by sighing softly and leaning into her touch.

"I'll do this," Alex said. "I love him, and I can do this."

END CHAPTER EIGHT


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Alex sat across from Bobby in what the hospital called the solarium. It was a nice enough room, but it scarcely bore the weight of such a title. Bobby carefully leaned back in the wheelchair, closed his eyes, and stretched. He opened his eyes and smiled. "It feels good to get out of that room," he said. "It's good to see the sun again and not have to wear sunglasses."

Alex returned his smile. It was good to see Bobby in such good spirits. It was rare in spite of his growing physical health, which she knew didn't entirely reflect the state of his mental health. As he got better physically, the possibility of his having to testify grew. This shadow hung over both of them. Alex thought she still saw men that looked like cops following her and around the hospital's public areas. But no one had breached the FBI's security, and no one approached Alex. She'd learned from the press, and her family and friends that the Brass, especially Chief of Detectives Kenny Moran, had a lot to worry about, and she hoped that former detectives Alex Eames and Bobby Goren had dropped to the bottom of their list of things to worry about. Bobby knew little of this. Alex and Stahl had provided him with only the sketchiest of details about the NYPD's Brass' interest in him and Alex. They edited the newspapers they allowed him to read, but Bobby quickly recognized what they were doing. One morning Alex had to calm him when he became convinced she was trying to hide from him something that he'd done to cause her trouble. She had to show him several articles before he believed her assurances he wasn't responsible for every bad thing happening with and to the NYPD. After that, both Alex and Stahl relaxed some of their vigilance regarding what information Bobby received.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Alex's mind jerked back to the present. "What?"

Bobby smiled. "I can go up to a dime, but no more."

Alex smiled. "They're not worth the penny."

"Maybe not to you," Bobby said softly. "But to me, what you think is priceless."

Alex reddened. "I thought you said you couldn't go beyond a dime."

"Well, what I can afford to do and what I want to do are two different things," Bobby said.

His left hand touched her right, and flames went through Alex. She'd forgotten how Bobby could overwhelm her physically. "I can't do this," she thought. "I can't talk to him if I can't think."

She pulled her hand away from his, stood, and walked away. She struggled not to shiver. She turned to face Bobby, and her heart fell. Shock, fear, and anger showed on his face. Alex rushed back to him. "Oh, Bobby, I'm so sorry."

Bobby slumped in the wheelchair. He raised his hands as a shield. "No," he said. "I get it. You don't have to do this. You can go away. I told you. You don't have to take care of me."

Alex knelt in front of him. "Bobby. Please, that's not it. I want to do this. I want to take care of you. It's just that I have to tell you something. I can't do it. When you touch me, I can't think."

He slowly lowered his hands. The anger and fear left his eyes, but he was very confused. "I don't understand."

"Goof," Alex said gently. "What I'm saying is that you keep me from thinking. I mean, when you touch me." She blushed again. "I sound like a teenager."

"I do that to you?" Bobby asked. "Just by touching you?"

"Yes."

"You do the same thing to me," Bobby confessed. "Sometimes just by looking at me. I know we've only made love twice. We've only spent one night together, but no one has ever. It's never been. You…" Bobby held his head in his hands.

Alex hesitated. She and Bobby hadn't really touched since his return. She'd held his hands, even brushed her lips across his head, but they hadn't really hugged or kissed. She didn't want to cause him any more physical pain, and Bobby understandably was frightened of being touched. Alex sensed that this was a moment when all of that might be changing. She took a deep breath and placed her hands on Bobby's knees. He trembled, but slowly placed his hands over hers.

"For someone who says he can't think clearly," Alex said. "You're making a lot of sense. More than me."

"What do you need to talk to me about that you need such a clear head for?" Bobby asked.

Alex moved to sit in the chair across from him.

"That bad?" Bobby asked.

"From my perspective, yea." Alex pushed her hair back. She always did this when she was nervous. It was her equivalent of Bobby's habit of rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're upset," Bobby said. "Because the FBI wants me to appear before a Grand Jury. And the prosecution may want me to testify in the NYPD scandal case."

"Who's talked to you? Stahl? We had an agreement."

"I brought it up," Bobby said. "It's not her or anyone else's fault. I know you're trying to protect me, but I figured it out."

Alex sighed. "I should've realized that superior brain of yours would know what's going on. Bobby, they just want to use you. You've already made the case. They just want a…a…"

"A trick pony they can show," Bobby said.

"I didn't mean…"

"Yes you did," Bobby said. "I know you don't think of me like that."

"You're not strong enough to do this," Alex argued. "I don't want you to be a part of this."

And suddenly they were having the conversation Alex had dreaded since Bobby's return.

"If I do this," Bobby said calmly. "It'll be over. The department and the Brass won't be after us. It'll be over."

"You know that it'll never be completely over. Not after what happened." Alex gently squeezed his hands. "Not because of anything you did. But what happens to you happens to me. I'd never claim what went through was like what happened to you. But some of it did happen to me. Just like what happened to me happened to you. I saw what you looked like in the hospital after Jo Gage took me. And people told me how badly you dealt with that. From what I heard, you may have been hurt as bad—maybe worse—as me."

"No, no." Bobby shook his head. "There's no way that…No way that I. Alex, I'm not good for you. I ruined your career. I nearly got you killed. I cost you so much."

"Bobby. We've had this conversation. You made my career. You made me a better cop and a better person. Jo Gage was a deeply troubled woman who would've gone after another woman if she hadn't set her sights on me. You gave me the tools to survive her. You didn't cost me my job. I resigned because of the department. You did nothing wrong. You did most things right."

Bobby stared at their hands. "I don't understand why you're with me."

"I don't understand why you're with me sometimes," Alex said.

Bobby stared at her. "But you're good and smart and tough and funny and beautiful. Why would someone like you be with someone like me?"

"You're good and smart and funny and cute," Alex said. "Why would someone like you be with someone like me?"

Bobby leaned forward, and their heads touched.

"I feel," Bobby said softly. "Like I have to do this. To show everyone that I can do it. I have to do it for us, so that they'll leave us alone. I have to do it for Ross. He believed in this mission. He believed in me. His kids—everyone—need to know he was a hero. I need to do it for all the good cops—your Dad, Deakins, Logan—all of them who got treated badly by the Department. For you. I gotta do it."

Alex carefully wrapped her arms around him. "All right," she conceded. "I can't argue against that."

"If…If you tell me not to do it, I won't."

Alex leaned back and stared at him. "You'd give me that much power over you?"

"Remember what I told you before I left. You have that much power over me," Bobby said.

Alex shivered. "That's very scary. No. don't you dare tell me you're sorry for that. Don't you dare."

Bobby smiled. "All right. But you know I'm thinking it."

Alex still held his hands. "Ok. You can do this. But only if your doctors say you're ok. And I go with you."

"Thank you," Bobby said.

"I hope you'll still feel like thanking me after all of this."

END CHAPTER NINE


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Alex hoped that Bobby's doctors might side with her, that they would keep Bobby in the hospital and far away from any courtroom. But the doctors charged with watching Bobby's physical well being began making sounds about releasing him. And those charged with his mental health agreed that testifying about what happened to him would help him.

"It'll give him power," George Huang told Alex as they met over coffee one morning. "It'll allow him to strike back against not just the people who tortured him, but against those in the department that treated him—and a lot of other people—so badly."

"But what if it tears him apart? What if it makes things worse for him?" Alex asked.

"That's a possibility," Huang acknowledged. "But I think you need to consider what you know about Mr. Goren. You know him better than anyone else. He trusts you more than anyone else."

"But he doesn't listen to me…"

"He does," Huang said firmly. "You know that if you told him not to do this, he'd obey you. And I think you know that's why you won't forbid him."

"Yea," Alex said after several minutes. "You're right. I won't do that. I won't tell him he has to do what I say. I can't. I can't make him be less than he is."

"You're a wise person, Ms. Eames." Huang said. "This is a difficult situation. The line between helping Mr. Goren and hurting him is very thin."

"What should I do?" Alex asked. "I ask myself that all the time. Sometimes I think there's nights when I get less sleep than Bobby. I don't know if it's better or worse that I know sort of what he went through. Only for a few hours, but…" Alex clutched at a napkin. "I…I knew Bobby was out there. I knew he'd do anything to find me. But he was on the other side of the world. Even though he knew I'd do anything to help him—he's told me that—he was so far away. I couldn't reach him. I don't know how…"

"You know," Huang said gently. "You know how he survived."

Alex started to rip the napkin, but she remembered how Bobby left shredded napkins all over restaurants in the city.

"You know how," Huang repeated.

"Me," Alex choked out. "I know that. Why is it so hard for me to say it?"

"It's a huge responsibility," Huang said. "To mean so much to another person."

"Bobby and I already know how much we mean to each other," Alex said. "Why is it so difficult for me to say it to someone else?"

"I'm not sure there's a good answer to that," Huang said. "It may be that you're acknowledging a relationship that was forbidden for so long. Or that it shows that you're vulnerable, that you're a human being."

Alex jerked up. "Why…Why would that…You…You hit a nerve there, Doctor."

"It's understandable," Huang said carefully. "I'm sure if you think about it, you'll realize what it means."

"I'm afraid to be vulnerable, to be loved, to love. I know that. All my life I've had to be tough, be strong." Alex pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "A cop can't show vulnerability, especially a female cop."

"I think you're dealing with more than just that."

Alex stared into her coffee cup. As much as she'd come to like and trust Huang, she didn't want to tell anyone about her greatest fears—anyone, that is, except Bobby.

"This must be very difficult," Huang began.

"You have no idea," Alex snapped. "Especially since the one person I can talk about these things with is lying up there in a hospital bed." She rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry. It's just…If I could only talk to Bobby about Bobby."

"That's not a bad idea."

"What?"

"One of his greatest fears," Huang said patiently. "Is that there's nothing he can do to help others. You know that if Mr. Goren can't help others, it's as if he's not alive."

Alex nodded.

"He's afraid that not only is he not helping, but that he's actively hurting people. Especially you."

"He's thought that for years," Alex said. "I think he thought that from the first moment we met. And it's not true. I've told him that a lot, especially recently. He's made me a better cop, a better person."

"He's told me that before you were partnered with him, you were on the fast track to be part of the Brass. And that you resigned from the NYPD and gave up the captaincy at Major Case because of him."

"Well, maybe if you look at things one way. But working with Bobby opened my eyes. I realized that if I had to choose between being part of the Brass and being a good cop, a good human being, I wanted to be a good cop and person. The truth is that I think Bobby has saved a lot of souls. Possibly our captains. Certainly mine. I just wish it wouldn't cost him so much."

"I know you've told him this many times," Huang said. "He needs a lot of reassurance."

"There are reasons for that," Alex said. "People he should've been able to trust betrayed him."

"I've learned some things," Huang said. "If there's anything good about all of this, it's that he's been able to talk a little about the things that have happened to him. I think he's finally dealing with things that have haunted him since his childhood."

"But the torture…Nothing could be worth that."

"I know. But it happened, and he's dealing with it."

Alex left Huang and headed up to Bobby's room. She could tell when Bobby's sessions with the psychiatrists had been rough. He was very quiet, and she sometimes thought she could feel his exhaustion through the door. When he arrived at the hospital, the doctors didn't want to schedule his physical and mental therapy sessions on the same day, but they realized the physical therapy at least got Bobby to a point where he'd fall into a sleep nearing unconsciousness. This was one of those days. She found Bobby curled up on his left side—his back was still frequently too painful for him to lay comfortably on it—and shivering. Alex gently touched his head, and Bobby jerked.

"Bobby. It's me. It's Alex. You're safe."

He slowly sat up. He trembled for several moments.

"Damn," he muttered. "Damn. I'm sorry. I thought…I keep thinking I'm over those…But…I keep…I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Alex said. She gently brushed her hand over his head. "You have no reason to apologize for nightmares."

He leaned gingerly back against the pillows.

"I hate this," he said. "I hate being helpless."

"You're not helpless," Alex said. "You're a strong and good man."

"I can barely take a few steps without collapsing."

"But you take a few more each day. And you've got a lot of power. Half of the NYPD is afraid of what you know and what you might say."

Bobby stared at the foot of his bed. "But you don't want me to use it."

Alex took a deep breath. "I'm not crazy about it. I'm afraid of the cost to you. But I understand why you need to do it. And part of me…Part of me wants you to get the bastards."

Bobby reached out for her hand. "The thing is," he said deliberately. "I think that if I can do this…If I testify…Then I can get some control in my life. Maybe a control I've never had. Maybe I haven't had it since…Since you were taken. Maybe since Deakins was forced out. I don't expect a miracle, that all my problems will be solved and I'll be all better. But I think it'll help. Please, Alex. Please understand. I know this isn't going to be easy. But I think I can help, that I can be of use. And that might help me."

Alex forced down a sob. "You know," she said when she could control her voice. "You and your doctors have almost convinced me that this is a good idea."

Bobby smiled wanly. "Almost?"

"Almost." Alex settled in the chair closest to his bed. "Do you know when they want you?"

"In about two or three days. There's some questions about whether I testify for the FBI case or the NYPD case first."

"The FBI case is more of a formality, right?"

"Yea. But it would look good if one of the witnesses against Moran and his cronies has just helped put away some very bad guys. Moran's defense team, understandably, doesn't want that to happen." He fidgeted with the sheet and blanket. "You…You might get called in the corruption case too."

"I know," Alex said. "After all, I'm the one they tried to bribe with a promotion."

"They didn't know you very well."

"They don't know either of us very well," Alex said. "They don't know they can't beat us when we're together."

END CHAPTER TEN


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"I think," Stahl said. "You'll both find this place comfortable." She turned in the van's middle seat to look at Bobby and Alex who sat in the back. "We managed to get several of your books, there, Bobby. Alex helped us pick them out and several other things."

Bobby looked across the seat to Alex. "Thank you," he said softly. He stared out the window. "It's weird, being outside again."

"Weird," Alex thought. "Not, "It's good", or "I'm happy"…" She caught Stahl's eyes. The FBI agent was also troubled by Bobby's reaction to his release from the hospital. Alex sensed that Stahl's interest wasn't just that of concern for the star witness in her and other's cases. Stahl had come to admire Bobby. She'd strongly hinted that places with the FBI for both Alex and Bobby at the end of those cases.

"You're not prisoners," Stahl said. "We need to protect you, but we don't want you to feel trapped."

"Thank you for arranging for me to see my family," Alex said. "Will they know where I am?"

"We can't tell them where you are," Stahl said. "But we'll help you reach them." She pulled out two cell phones and handed them to Alex and Bobby. Alex eagerly took hers, but Bobby shook his head.

"I don't need it," he said. "No one is looking for me, except for some members of the NYPD and some bad guys."

"Please take it," Stahl said gently. "You can call people and give them the number. These phones may not be completely untraceable, but we've set them up so it'll be very difficult."

Bobby took the phone and slipped it into his pocket. Alex was busily programming numbers and addresses into hers, but she saw Bobby's move.

"Bobby," she began.

"When do I testify?" Bobby asked, blocking her question. "And for which case?"

"The day after tomorrow, In federal court," Stahl said. "It shouldn't be difficult. Your testimony is just a step in the process."

Bobby nodded. "Then…What will happen?"

"You'll both probably testify in the NYPD case in about a week," Stahl replied. "If there's a trial."

Alex looked up. "I've heard rumors, but there really might not be a trial?"

"Our guys have gotten several people to turn over. Agent McIntire wants to thank you both. That tip about the false email. The captain who's behind that has turned. His resignation should be announced tomorrow. That led to Moran's links to Frank Adair, who turned on Moran and trading for a transfer to a federal facility. Not a country club, but the prisoners aren't as likely to turn on him, and Adair will get a few more chances at fresh air."

"More than Bobby did," Alex choked.

"The secretary," Bobby said after a moment.

"Secretary?" Stahl asked.

"The one who created that email…Forced to," Bobby said softly. "What's happened to her?"

"Oh. She's agreed to testify as well. She was one reason McIntire was able to turn the captain. She was about to retire, and she'll get to keep her benefits."

"I wish she would've thought about what she was doing before that email forced Captain Deakins' resignation," Alex said bitterly.

"She was under a lot of pressure," Bobby said.

"You're very generous," Stahl said.

Bobby stared out the window. "She probably thought she was being loyal."

"We're here," the driver said.

They were on a street of neat row houses in one of Brooklyn's better neighborhoods. As the SUV pulled up, a young man and woman quickly moved down one of the house's front steps. They glanced up and down the street as they strode to the SUV. The driver stepped quickly from the car and also checked the surroundings as he moved to open the door. Alex and Stahl quickly moved out of the car and turned to help Bobby.

"You going to be ok with the steps?" Alex asked. She tried not to hover over Bobby.

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice was flat. He examined the house. "The Bureau must have a better budget than I've been led to believe."

Stahl smiled. "This has been a safe house for a while."

Bobby managed the steps into and inside the house. He and Alex had large, comfortable rooms next to each other on the second floor. As promised, several of Bobby's books and some of his clothes waited in his room. Alex had selected several of his best suits for his court appearances and his favorite jeans and t-shirts for the rest of his time. Bobby sat heavily on the large, comfortable bed. He suddenly felt as if he'd run several miles after working a case for several days. There was a knock on his door, and Bobby thought it took all of his energy to raise his head and say, "Come in."

Alex opened the door. "Hey," she said. Her voice sent warm waves through him. He realized he was still capable of love, that he still loved Alex, and the realization filled him with joy. He couldn't bear it, and he fell back on the bed.

"Bobby…" Alex's worried voice reached him through a long, fog filled tunnel.

"Bobby…I'm going to get some help…"

"No." He managed to concentrate on Alex and speak. "I…I'm all right."

Bobby, you can't even sit up." Alex sat on the bed next to him. He felt her hand on his head.

"I… I just did too much too fast," he said. "Could…Could you help me get into bed, please?"

"Ok." She helped him take off his shoes and socks and shirt and pants.

"You sure you're all right?" she asked as she helped him lift his legs under the covers.

"Yes…Thank you." His voice was thick with his need for sleep. "I…I love you, Alex. I love you very much."

Alex stroked his head. "I…I love you very much, too," she said when she could speak.

"I wish…I wish I could make love to you." He was losing his battle against falling asleep. "That night…The memory…It saved me…It kept me alive."

"It helped me a lot, too. I'd love to make love with you, too. Oh, Bobby…" She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his curls.

"I…I just realized," Bobby murmured. "That I…That I could still love you. Since…Since I came back…I've been so afraid. To feel anything. Because when I let myself feel anything. It was bad. Like pain, or anger, or fear. And, sometimes, even if I wanted to feel something, I couldn't. But a few minutes ago, I felt something. It was good. I knew that I loved you."

His voice grew softer, and Alex strained to hear him. Bobby blinked and closed his eyes. Alex rubbed her eyes and rose from the bed.

"Alex?"

"Yes…"

"Please? Could you stay? Until I fall asleep?"

She sat again on the bed. "Of course. Of course."

She stayed, one hand resting on his head, until she knew he was deeply asleep. She checked the closets and drawers in the room to make sure everything he needed had arrived safely. The room contained a good sized desk and chair. Books filled shelves next to the desk. Stahl and two large, young agents had accompanied Alex on her mission to Bobby's house, and Alex was glad of their presence when they arrived at the house and discovered a large, black SUV screaming "Cops!" parked nearby. Alex thought it might even be one of the vehicles she and Bobby drove. They entered through the back door, and one of the young agents stood guard there while the other stood watch at the front. Alex and Stahl packed as quickly as they could. As Alex filled several boxes with books, Stahl watched.

"Are you sure he'll want all of these?" she asked.

"I've seen Bobby eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a week if there was an expensive book he had to have. These are just essentials. You want to make him happy, ask him what he'd like from the bookstore."

"I'll keep that in mind," Stahl said.

They got away without any incidents. "Were there any signs anyone got or tried to get in?" Alex asked as she looked over her shoulder.

"None," Stahl said. "It's as if someone is trying to harass you and Bobby."

Alex sighed. "That sounds like Kenny Moran."

She thought about the shadows hanging over Bobby as she examined the titles on the shelf. "A few more days," Alex thought. "Maybe less than a couple of weeks. Then it'll be over. We can get on with our lives." She checked on Bobby, who was deeply asleep, and left the room.

Stahl waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. "How is he?"

"Asleep. Just leaving the hospital and getting her wore him out." Alex looked over her shoulder at the door to Bobby's room. "I hope he's ready for all of this."

"His doctors think so. He thinks so. He very much wants to testify," Stahl said. "I think this is good for him."

Bobby slept through the afternoon and evening, even through dinner. Alex checked on him several times before she went to her own bed. She couldn't sleep. So many sounds came from his room, and her thoughts raced. She finally gave up and padded into Bobby's room. A small light was on in the room, and in its pale light Alex could see Bobby was still asleep, but moving restlessly. She gently touched his head. This soothed him, but his eyes blinked awake. For a moment, he was lost and confused, but he calmed when he saw Alex.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's ok." His voice was thick with sleep. "Uh…I need to go to the bathroom."

"You need any help?"

"I think I'll be ok." Bobby eased out of bed and carefully stood. "Give me a minute."

He moved easily in and out of the bathroom.

"It's the middle of the night?" Bobby stared at the clock. "I've been asleep that long?"

"Yea…"

"I…I'm hungry," Bobby confessed.

His words made Alex very happy. "C'mon. I know where the kitchen is."

Bobby pulled on his jeans and t-shirt and followed Alex to the kitchen.

"Quiet around here," Bobby commented.

"Don't let it fool you," Alex said. "There are a lot of agents around."

"Just for me?" Bobby asked as they stepped into the huge kitchen.

Alex smiled. "I'm here too, you know."

Bobby moved close to her. "Yea…I do know…"

"I thought you said you were hungry." Alex murmured as she faced him.

"Not just for food," Bobby said. He wrapped his arms round her and started to kiss her. A low, steady rumbling came from his stomach. "Ok," he laughed. "Food first."

Alex headed to the refrigerator. "Let's see if there's any of that Italian left."

"Italian," Bobby said warmly. "It seems like forever since I had Italian."

Bobby ate enthusiastically enough that Alex gently warned him against eating too fast.

"I'm almost full," he announced. "But I could eat that cheesecake I saw in there."

"If I get to share," Alex said.

"A full meal in the middle of the night." Bobby shook his head. "My eating schedule is completely whacky."

"I'm not sure we ever had a schedule," Alex smiled. "Although we usually managed breakfast."

"Yea. I wonder if anyone at the diner misses us?"

"I'd be surprised if it's still in business without us." Alex gathered the dishes, carried them to the sink, rinsed them, and placed them in the dishwasher. She turned to find Bobby standing close to her.

"You still move like a big cat," she said into his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her. "I owe you so much. I owe you everything."

Alex pulled his face to meet hers. She kissed him, and he responded by deepening the kiss.

"I'm not sure," she said, when they finally broke the kiss. "That this is the best place for this."

"Too many trained investigators around?"

"You must be feeling good," Alex said.

"I haven't felt this good…Since…Since before…Oh, Alex." He buried his head in her neck. "I love you. I'm happy. And I know I can do this. I know I can."

"Upstairs," Alex said. "Upstairs."

END CHAPTER 11


	12. Chapter 12

My apologize for the long delay in updating. Lots of things to read, the new SHERLOCK on TV, and uncertainty about where to take this.

CHAPTER 12

Alex slowly woke from what she thought might be a wonderful dream. She realized it wasn't a dream, that she really was lying with her head and upper body curled on Bobby's chest. His right arm curled around her, and his left hand intertwined with her right. He was big and soft and warm, and his breath a soothing beat. She carefully raised her body. Bobby was deeply and peacefully asleep. She knew he rarely enjoyed deep and peaceful sleep, especially in the past few weeks, and she didn't want to wake him. He stirred slightly as she slipped from his arms, but didn't wake.

She studied Bobby's features in the pale light. She guessed it was around seven or so—both she and Bobby had developed fairly reliable internal clocks over the years. She briefly wondered if the FBI agents cared about her and Bobby's sleeping arrangements, but then dismissed the thought. Stahl knew about them; the agent's superiors probably knew. Most of her family knew. The people following them probably knew. If Zach Nichols didn't know, he wasn't half the detective Alex thought he was. Danny Ross must have suspected.

"They're right of course," Alex thought. "They were always right. There's always been something between us, even if it wasn't what it is now and what they thought it was."

She padded into the bathroom. She returned and found Bobby curled on his side and still deeply asleep. Alex slipped in beside him. She lay on her side, looked at him, and remembered the first time she saw Bobby Goren. With a start, she realized that it had been nearly a decade since that day when she entered Major Case and saw a large, neatly dressed man sitting at the rickety desk and on the squeaky chair that went to the squad's newcomers. He was lost in a deep study of the squad's handbook. A column of books weighed down one side of the desk. Alex recalled with some shame that her first reaction to the titles was one of disdain. Before she got to her desk that morning, Captain Deakins motioned for Alex to come to his office. Alex kept one eye on the large man as she walked into the office. She'd heard about Goren. He was one of those cops it was impossible not to hear about in the NYPD. Her late husband had mentioned Goren one evening shortly before his death. Goren was apparently the gold standard in Narcotics, at least as far as his results were concerned. How he got those results was another matter. Joe and Alex's oldest brother Mike were among those cops who thought Goren's methods were reckless and dangerous and the man was one step away from either being a perp or placed in a mental hospital. But another cop in the bar, one who actually had worked with Goren, quietly and firmly disagreed with these opinions.

"You guys don't know him," the cop said. "You haven't seen him in action. He's a good cop, and not just because he's got a hundred per cent solve rate. He's a good cop because he's always got your back. He believes in that serve and protect business. If he has anything wrong with him, it's that he cares too much about everything. When you guys have seen him in action or worked with him, then you can have an opinion."

Alex remained quiet during this debate, and Joe gave her a hard time about it as she drove them home. She tried to appease him by saying she didn't know enough about Goren and his work to have anything to say. But Joe had had a little too much to drink and wanted to pick a fight. He accused Alex of going soft because she cared too much about the working girls she encountered working in Vice. She countered by calling Joe a desk jockey who only knew what other cops told him about working on the street. As these arguments did in those days, the argument somehow became about why Alex should move to safer spot in the department or even resign. That night Alex slept in the extra room, although to say she got any sleep would have been an exaggeration. Alex was never sure if her comments about Joe needing more street cred led to him seeking and getting a post in Narcotics. She knew he'd been hearing the same thing from a lot of people, including her brother and his superiors and other officers. Alex tried not to think "what if" about most things, but especially about Joe's death. But in those terribly early hours when she woke in the big empty bed in the days after Joe's murder, she wondered whether Joe's eagerness to get those street credentials and his lack of experience led to his death. The discovery that the NYPD, with the aid of Joe's best friend and partner, covered up many of the details surrounding his murder fed her guilt.

Alex still reeled from Joe's death when she arrived at Major Case. The new job helped to save her, and she always believed one reason she performed so well was because she seized the job as life preserver. She was still throwing herself into the job when Goren became her partner. As much as she disappeared into the job, Alex became convinced that Goren didn't exist outside of it. In the early days of their partnership, she wondered if Goren was homeless and lived at One Police Plaza.

"You know," Deakins said one morning as he passed by Alex and Bobby's desks. "I'd love to get her one morning and not find you two here. Or leave after you."

Bobby had glanced up with a quick, embarrassed look Alex was becoming familiar with.

"Contrary to what people think," Alex said. "We have to work hard to keep that great solve rate."

As she lay next to Bobby, Alex remembered the shy, grateful look he'd given her that morning. She studied him. The ten years she'd known him hadn't been entirely kind to him. He'd gained weight in the usual places, although his recent ordeal left him gaunt and nearly as thin as when they first met. His hair and beard were as grey as they were black. The weight of his professional and personal troubles had slowed him physically and mentally, but things were getting better before Ross' murder. Things were good between Alex and Bobby, almost as good as when they were at their best. It was better in at least one way. Bobby actually listened and spoke to Alex. He let her in. He let her know that he'd placed his search for his nephew on a back burner.

"If he shows up, or I find something," Bobby told her. "I'll help him. I'd be very happy. But I gotta take care of myself."

And then Ross was murdered, and Bobby suspended and then fired, and Alex resigned, and they admitted and acted on what they felt, and Bobby went on a secret mission and was nearly killed. She was overjoyed by his return and overwhelmed by his need. She desperately wanted to protect him, but she also wanted him to testify, to show the people who'd tortured him that they hadn't broken him. She wanted him to show everyone in the NYPD who'd doubted and betrayed him that he was strong and brave and good.

The alarm clock buzzed, and Alex quickly moved to click it off. Bobby stirred, but didn't wake up. Alex briefly considered waking him, but decided a few more moments of sleep would help him. She rose and stood in thought for a moment. She needed to get ready for the day, but she didn't want Bobby to panic if he woke and found her gone. She walked to the desk, pulled out a small notepad and pen, wrote a note, ripped out the paper, and placed on her abandoned pillow.

Alex slipped out of Bobby's room and into her own. She showered in the bathroom connected to her room and dressed carefully, as she always did for her courtroom appearances. She wondered if any of his suits would fit Bobby. As she left her room, she encountered a FBI agent carrying a tray with a small coffee pot and cup and several newspapers.

"Good morning," he said politely. "Mr. Goren is awake. He asked me to bring him some coffee and the papers. Agent Stahl is in the kitchen. Can I get you anything, Ms. Eames?"

"No thanks. I'm going downstairs," Alex said. "You guys treat us awfully well. Could you let Mr. Goren know I'm going down?"

"Of course," the agent replied.

During the night, Alex and Bobby appeared to be the only people in the house, but now it bristled with activity. Several agents greeted Alex as she descended the stairs and walked to the kitchen. Stahl was there, speaking with two young men, one that Alex recognized as the federal D.A. leading the case against the terrorists who'd kidnapped and tortured Bobby.

"Last minute strategy?" Alex asked as she poured a cup of coffee.

Stahl nodded to the two men, who quietly left the kitchen.

"Problem?" Alex asked. She leaned against the counter and sipped her coffee.

"You haven't seen a paper this morning? Or saw or heard any news?" Stahl asked cautiously.

Alex shook her head. Her grip tightened on her cup.

"THE LEDGER had a story," Stahl said. "It's been picked up by other sources."

"THE LEDGER has had a series on NYPD corruption," Alex said. "Some of the stories have been written by a friend of Bobby. They helped lead to the investigation of Moran."

Stahl nodded. "This is a little different. This story claims to be based on a recording of Moran. It quotes from the recording."

"What does it say? Moran caught accepting a bribe?" Alex couldn't keep the bitter hope out of her voice.

"No." Stahl stared into her own cup. "It quotes Moran looking for someone to "take care of" Detective Goren."

Anger and fear rose in Alex, and she couldn't trust her voice for several moments. ""Take care of"?" she finally managed.

"It dates back to before Mr. Goren was suspended for going undercover at Tates," Stahl said. "The story suggests that Moran had been angry with Mr. Goren for a long time, at least since the arrest of Frank Adair."

"Moran was one of Adair's buddies," Alex said. "And Bobby and I discovered that Adair's friends were behind the false email that forced our former captain to resign." Alex was surprised that sad resignation replaced much of her fear and anger.

"Moran's attitude became worse after…" Stahl hesitated.

"After Bobby discovered Patrick Copa's lies and the screw up of the investigation of my husband's murder," Alex said calmly. "Everyone knew Bobby was on Moran's hit list after that."

""Hit list"," Stahl said. "Appear to be the right words." She handed a copy of THE LEDGER to Alex. "The story says…"

"That Moran wanted Bobby dead," Alex said as she read the story. Her heart sank. As much as she hated Moran, Alex still struggled to understand how any cop would want another cop dead, especially such a good, intelligent, great, brave cop like Bobby Goren. She read the words without fully understanding them.

"It's unconfirmed," Stahl said, and Alex knew that the FBI agent was also baffled by how one cop could hate another so much. "But it's convincing. And I'm afraid it does confirm a lot of the FBI investigation of Moran and other members of the NYPD brass."

Alex shivered with a sudden thought. "Bobby…"

"What?" Stahl asked.

The paper fell from Alex's hand. "Newspapers…Bobby's got a bunch of papers." Alex rushed from the kitchen.

END CHAPTER 12

Patcat


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Alex slammed stop in front of the door to Bobby's room. "What," she thought. "Am I going to say to him? And even with the note…he's going to think I abandoned him." She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Bobby said in a soft voice, and Alex opened the door.

He stood in front of the mirror on the open closet door. He was adjusting his tie, and wore the pants of one of his best suits and a blazingly white cotton dress shirt. The suit's jacket hung on the back of a chair in front of the desk. An empty coffee cup and open newspaper rested on top of the desk.

"I'm sorry I left without waking you," Alex said tentatively. "But I thought you could use the sleep. And I left you a note."

"Thank you for the sleep and the note," Bobby said.

She sensed he was trying very hard to control his voice. He hadn't looked directly at her since she'd entered the room.

"How's this tie look?" he asked. He was trying to avoid the coiled rattlesnake sitting on the desk. She noticed that his hands shook so much that he was having trouble tying the tie.

"It looks great. But it's one of my favorites. Here…" Alex stepped up to him. "Can I help you with that?" Her own hands shook slightly as she looped the silk cloth around and over.

Even as close as they were, Bobby couldn't look her in the eyes. "Where did you learn to tie a tie? You're good at it."

"Father. Brothers. Boyfriends. Husband," Alex answered. "There…" She stepped back and examined Bobby. "You look good."

Bobby reached for his jacket. "Trustworthy? Honest?"

"Better than an Eagle Scout," Alex replied. "You want some more coffee? Breakfast?"

Bobby slipped on his jacket. "I'm not hungry. Maybe I'll feel more like eating after I testify." He walked to the door. "Thank you," he said softly. "Last night. Thank you."

Alex found the courage to gently touch his arm. "Thank you. It was pretty wonderful for me."

His eyes finally met her. "You…You saw the paper?"

"Yea. I read the first couple of paragraphs." They didn't have to say what story they were talking about. "Moran is as much of a jerk as we thought he was. Worse, maybe."

Bobby's hand tentatively and tenderly touched her cheek. "I guess I should be relieved. I wasn't paranoid. Moran really was after me. And Ross."

"What?"

"If you read the whole article," Bobby said. "Ross apparently made it on Moran's list."

"It wasn't your fault, Bobby," Alex said. "Kenny Moran is a vindictive son of a bitch. You're a good, honest man who was one of the best cops in the NYPD. Ross and Deakins knew that. I think that's why Moran hates you so much."

"You…What about you…I've…"

Alex wrapped her arms around Bobby's neck and pulled his head down so that his forehead touched hers.

"We've talked about this," she said gently. "I never wanted to be part of the Brass. I just wanted to do the job. And you helped me to do the job very, very well."

Bobby sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "I know that. It's just so hard. One of the things they…The people who had me…They kept telling me that no one cared about me. That no one was looking for me. I knew you were out there. It's what kept me sane. Kept me alive. That article. What Moran's quoted as saying about me. It's a little too close to what I've always feared."

Alex tightened her grip on him. "You going to be ok? You going to be able to go through this today?"

"If you're with me, yea," Bobby said. "Right now, I just want to get this over with."

There was a soft knock at the door. Alex and Bobby reluctantly separated. "Come in," Bobby said.

The door opened to reveal Agent Stahl. "I'm sorry," she said. "But we need to get going."

"Of course," Bobby said. They were the last words he said for some time.

During the drive, Stahl went over several points of Bobby's testimony. Bobby nodded occasionally, but said nothing.

"I need to warn you both," Stahl said. "We've heard rumors that Moran's attorneys may try to subpoena you. We're not sure why, since you're both going to be prosecution witnesses. It must be some kind of legal maneuver."

Alex snorted and leaned forward, but Bobby spoke before she did. "That'd be all right with me. I just want to get everything over with. I want people to know what happened. I want them to know that James Deakins and Danny Ross are and were good men. I want them to know that Ms. Eames is a good cop and person. I want people to know what they did and do for the NYPD. For their city and their country."

"What about you, Bobby?" Alex asked. She couldn't keep an edge of frustration from her voice. "What about everything you've done? You've suffered?"

Bobby shrank back in his seat.

Stahl leaned forward. "People will know what Mr. Goren's done. After today, they'll know."

Bobby stared out the window.

"Agent Stahl." The FBI agent in the front passenger seat turned to face the back seat. "There's a crowd of reporters and cameramen in front of the courthouse."

Bobby shrank back further in his seat.

"Vultures," Alex muttered.

"Take us around to the back, Reynolds," Stahl told the driver.

"The D.A. and Bureau Chief won't like it," Reynolds said.

"The D.A. and the Bureau Chief didn't make this case," Stahl replied. "Back…"

Reynolds smiled and nodded.

"I don't know if it's comforting or troubling that Federal prosecutors and chiefs can be just as bad as ones working for the city," Alex commented.

The underground entrance to the Federal courthouse had all the charm of the concrete bunker it resembled. The air temperature seemed to drop several degrees as they entered it, and Alex shivered as she stepped from the SUV. A squadron of agents surrounded and guided them to a freight elevator, which slowly ground its way up to the floor where the courtrooms were. The large door creaked open, followed by the clanging of the steel gates. The sounds jolted Alex. Bobby was outwardly calm, but she saw a faint twitch in his jaw. He stared straight ahead down the hall, which was jammed with reporters and cameramen. Alex thought he might have fallen back a step, but she was the only person who noticed this. He straightened his shoulders and followed a wedge of FBI agents and court officials through the crowd. The reporters shouted questions, but Bobby stared at and moved resolutely toward the courtroom. Alex tried to ignore the questions, especially the ones referring to Moran's vendetta against Bobby. She saw a black suited man holding a thick rectangular envelope trying to fight through the crowd. Alex pointed the man out to Stahl, who whispered in an agent's ear. The agent nodded and planted himself directly in front of the black suited man as Bobby's escorts swept him into the courtroom.

The courtroom was quiet and calm, especially in comparison to the chaos in the hall. It took Alex's eyes several minutes to adjust to the soft light after the flashing cameras and glaring television lights. Bobby spun to look for her and frantically searched the room until he saw her. He immediately relaxed. Alex stepped closer to him.

"It's ok," she said and touched his arm. "I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded. "Thank you."

Bobby's testimony was part the play produced by the prosecution and the defense. Alex was furious that the exposure of Bobby's torture was a major part of the play, and that it had more to do with providing good public relations for the FBI than the resolution of the case. She admitted that the federal D.A. took Bobby through his part as quickly and gently as he could, and that Bobby played his part perfectly. The defense also stuck to the script, and Alex knew that neither side forced Bobby to reveal the worst of what happened to him. But he revealed enough that several of the jurors flinched and blanched; Alex saw tears in the eyes of some. His testimony seemed to go on for a long time, and when the judge finally dismissed Bobby with words of thanks and praise, Alex was stunned to discover that less than an hour had passed. The judge called for a recess, and Alex met Stahl and Bobby in front of the bench.

"There's a crowd outside the main entrance," Stahl said. "We'll go out a side door…"

"No," Bobby said softly but firmly.

"Bobby," Alex said. "You don't have to…"

"Yes, I do," Bobby said. "I have to tell them something."

Stahl and Alex exchanged a worried look.

"It won't hurt the cases," Bobby said. "I promise you. But I have to tell people. I have to let them know what Ross did. That he wasn't part of Moran's vendettas."

Stahl stared at Bobby. "But we've let the press know…"

Bobby shook his head. "It's not good enough. The stories in today's papers. Ross has been linked with Moran."

Alex was stunned for a moment. "Of course," she thought. "This is Bobby Goren. The idea that the Chief of Detectives wanted him out of the way—maybe dead—matters less to him than the possibility someone else's reputation might be hurt."

Stahl was having more difficulty with this idea. "Mr. Goren. You don't have to do this. You don't have to face the press. And there may be a subpoena waiting for you out there."

Bobby again shook his head. "I don't care. Maybe it'd be better to get all of this over with. I just want to tell the truth. Especially about Ross. Like I'm going to do now." He pushed past Stahl, Alex, and the other agents and through the courtroom door.

Rows of lights, cameras, and microphones faced him. Alex, rushing up behind him, saw only the silhouettes of figures in the glare of the lights and the camera flashes. The stunned reporters stared at Bobby for several seconds, but a cacophony of questions soon came from them. The noise lessened why Bobby raised his hand.

"Please," he said in an unnaturally loud and stiff voice. "I need to say something. I need to say a few words about Captain Danny Ross."

He ignored the questions a few reporters shouted at him.

"Captain Danny Ross," Bobby continued. "Was a good and ethical cop, a good and ethical man. He loved his country and this city. He loved his sons. He became a cop and was a cop for all of the right reasons. He wanted to serve and to protect, and he did that all of his life." Bobby spoke softly, and the crowed pressed forward to hear him. "He was murdered serving and protecting the country and city he loved. I was just his replacement on this mission. Danny Ross is the real hero here. I want everyone to know that. He was a good man. An honest man. That's all I want to say. Thank you."

Bobby sagged with exhaustion. He turned to Alex. "Please," he whispered. "I'm so tired."

Alex turned to Stahl, who was recovering from shock at Bobby's words. The agent snapped into action, stepping in front of Bobby and gently pushing him back to the courtroom. She, Alex, and the other agents managed to get Bobby back in the room before most of the reporters knew what was happening. As the courtroom doors shut behind them, Alex saw the man in the black suit waving the thick envelope and desperately trying to get to the courtroom. She turned away from the doors and saw Bobby slumped in a chair. The FBI agents moved out of her way as she walked up to him.

"Bobby," she said softly.

He silently looked up at her. His expression terrified her.

"He doesn't care," she thought. "He doesn't care about himself anymore."

END CHAPTER THIRTEEN


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Bobby said nothing as they drove back to the safe house. Alex and Stahl exchanged concerned looks, but didn't know what to say to each other or Bobby.

"How long with the FBI take care of us?"

Stahl and Alex both jumped at Bobby's voice.

"I…I'm not sure," Stahl said. "Certainly until after the corruption case is settled." In truth, she wasn't sure how long the Bureau would extend its protection and hospitality.

Bobby stared out the SUV window.

"You've been good to us," Alex said, directing the words to Stahl. "But I have to admit I'm missing home."

"Home," Bobby said flatly. "I wonder where…"

Before Alex could respond, the driver spoke. "We're being followed."

The agent in the front passenger seat checked the mirror on his side of the car. "Looks like a cop car."

"Lose it," Stahl ordered. "We can't compromise the safe house, and I don't want anyone annoying Ms. Eames and Mr. Goren."

"With pleasure," the driver said, and proceeded to take the SUV through a series of twists and turns that left Alex, born and bred in and knowing most of the byways of the five boroughs, totally lost until they reached the safe house.

"I'm starting to believe what they say about you, Reynolds," Stahl said as she helped Alex and Bobby out of the car. "You could drive for NASCAR."

"Naw," Reynolds said. "Too easy. They only turn in one direction. You guys get inside, and I'll make sure no one followed us."

Bobby walked into the house as if a great weight sat on his shoulders

"Are you ok, Bobby," Alex asked gently. "Are you hungry?"

"Uh…Fine. I'm fine. I'm not hungry." His voice was flat and hollow. "I'm pretty wiped out. I think I'll go upstairs and try to get some sleep."

He and Alex entered the house, and Bobby started up the stairs. He stumbled, and Alex rushed to him.

"I'm all right," he insisted. "Just tired."

Alex hovered near him. "Are you sure? Do you want me to go up with you?"

"No. Really. I'm fine." He tried to smile, but the result was far from reassuring. "I just need a little time to rest. Think. A little time alone. I'll be ok, I promise you, Alex. Just a little time."

Alex hesitated. She desperately wanted to take care of Bobby, but also knew she had to trust him and let him deal with everything that had hit him during the day.

"Ok," she said, trying not to show her uncertainty and doubt. "You get some rest. If it's ok, I'll see you later. It'll make me feel better, and then maybe you'll be hungry."

Bobby stared at the stairs for several moments as conflicting thoughts appeared to sweep through his mind. "Ok," he finally said.

Alex watched him slowly walk up the stairs and to his room. She turned and saw Stahl, at the bottom of the stairs, also watching Bobby.

"He asked me a legitimate question," Stahl said. "I wonder…Would you or Mr. Goren consider working for the FBI?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't," Alex said truthfully. "And I doubt Bobby would. If we can't make the NYPD happy, I don't think we could keep the FBI happy. But you should ask Bobby. At least it would make him feel useful."

"You'd both be great additions to the Bureau," Stahl said wryly. "At least in my opinion. But I'm afraid it has its bad points. Maybe more than the NYPD."

"And I suspect Bobby has a lot of baggage with some people, especially as far as Declan Gage is concerned," Alex said. She and Stahl walked towards the kitchen.

"Yea. I'm afraid I had a lot of ideas about Mr. Goren because of that," Stahl said. "Once I met him, once I really looked into his history with Gage, I got a very different picture."

"At least you changed your mind," Alex said. "A lot of people won't. I have to admit, I'd love to be able to have Thanksgiving with my family. I might even be able to persuade Bobby to come."

"I hope everything is over by then," Stahl said wearily She moved towards the counter where the coffee pot rested. "Even if it isn't, we'll find a way to get you to your family. I'd like to have Thanksgiving with my family too." She lifted the pot, but turned to Alex. "Would you say we're off duty?"

Alex smiled sadly. "I don't have any duty to be on."

"There's a nicely stocked bar just off the living room," Stahl said. "I could use something stronger than coffee."

"So could I," Alex said. "And I could show you how I funded my way through college and the academy. I make a mean margarita."

When he stumbled into his room, Bobby shed his suit, tie, and shirt, tossing them on the chairs. He moved into the bathroom, slipped off his underwear, and spent a long time in a hot shower, desperately trying to wash away the smells and sound and sights of the day. The shower was strong and there was plenty of hot water. Bobby's skin was pink and puckered by the time he turned off the water. He luxuriated in the steam filled room for a few moments, and left the bathroom surrounded by a cloud. He put on a clean T-shirt, boxers, and pajama pants, and fell on the bed.

He lay on his back on the large, comfortable bed. The FBI was taking good care of Alex and him. He thought the bed might be bigger than the one he used to own. It was certainly newer and more comfortable.

The light in the room grew dimmer. "Nearly winter," Bobby thought. "Night coming sooner." He shivered, and pulled the blankets and sheet over his body.

"What," he thought. "Am I going to do? Where am I going to go?"

All of his life, or at least all of his adult life—and it seemed to Bobby his time as a child had been very brief—two things had defined him. One was caring for his mother; the other was work. Now, his mother was dead, and there was no work.

"What am I?" Bobby whispered. "Who am I?"

The growing shadows offered no answers.

END CHAPTER FOURTEEN


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

He wasn't sure that he heard or imagined the soft knock at the door.

"Bobby. You ok? Can I come in?"

He pulled back the covers and swung his legs from under them. "Yea…Come in," he said as he toed on his slippers.

Alex opened the door. The light from the hall surrounded her in a glow, and Bobby's heart caught in his throat. She smiled goofily.

"Feeling better?" Alex enunciated her words very carefully.

Bobby wasn't sure how to answer that question. Until he saw Alex, he felt terrible. Now she drove away the shadows and doubts in his head. "Uh…Better…Yea…I feel better."

"Well, I suppose you'd have to," she said as she walked towards him. "You were pretty low." She slightly slurred the words, and as she neared him, Bobby smelled a pleasant touch of rum.

"Ok if I sit?" She pointed to the bed.

"Of course." Bobby shifted to give her room.

Alex flopped on the bed with a little more force than she would have if she were sober. She giggled.

"Sorry," she said. "Turns out Stahl likes margaritas too. I was demonstrating my bartending skills to her."

"Looks like you might have had a few too," Bobby smiled.

"I had to perform quality control tests." Through a curtain of golden hair she returned his smile.

"After today," Bobby said. "After all you've done, I don't blame your or Stahl for a few drinks." He shyly touched her cheek. "Especially you…Especially for all you've done for me."

Something caught in his heart. A thought blazed through his mind sat Bobby sprawling back on the bed.

"Bobby?"

He blinked and saw Alex looking down at him. Her hand hovered over his chest. He touched her cheek.

"You," he whispered.

"Me? What me?"

He smiled, and his fingers tangled in her hair. "You. I live for you now. I can take care of you now. And home. My home is wherever you are."

Alex's eyes filled with tears. Bobby wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him.

"Damn, Goren," she said shakily. "Get a girl when she's had too many margaritas."

Bobby laughed. "These," he wiped the tears from her cheek. "They from the rum?"

"Not entirely." She kissed him.

And his stomach rumbled.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"Yea. For a lot of things." Bobby smiled. "But if I want one of them, I'd better eat first so I'll have the energy for it. Garbage eggs."

"What?"

"Garbage eggs. I want some garbage eggs."

"You want me to eat garbage eggs after drinking margaritas?"

"We'll put Tabasco and salsa in them," Bobby said. "And I thought I saw some tortillas in the fridge."

"Works for me."

Bobby was scrambling eggs, and Alex pulling things out of the fridge when Stahl entered the kitchen.

"What smells so good?" she asked.

"I think we're going to need more eggs and stuff," Bobby said.

"Got 'em," Alex said.

"Hey." Another agent came in the kitchen. "What's going on here? Does it involve food?"

Within ten minutes, most of the FBI agents were in the kitchen. Someone had coffee going. Someone else pulled oranges from the fruit bin and started squeezing them for juice. Another agent found flour and sausage and made gravy while another made biscuits. People started sharing recipes, and that led to stories about food, and that led to stories about a lot of things. Since everyone was in or had been in law enforcement, most of the stories were about cops and criminals, and these stories featured some of the dumbest of both categories. Alex made another batch of margaritas; someone contributed a pitcher of Bloody Marys. It wasn't enough alcohol to make anyone tipsy, but it was enough to loosen some tongues. Reynolds, who'd worked often with Stahl and had a high opinion of her, related the tale of how Stahl managed to completely bewilder and catch a Russian mob boss.

"Went undercover by herself," Reynolds said. "When our immediate superior found out, he screamed at her for violating procedure and nearly getting herself killed. Then he recommended her for a medal and promotion."

"Didn't deserve either of them," Stahl said.

"Sounds like Bobby and his Medal of Honor," Alex mused.

Bobby, who was putting pots and pans in the dishwasher, almost dove into the appliance.

An agent whistled. "Wow. I didn't know Goren had a Medal of Honor."

"It wasn't that big of a deal. What I did." Bobby straightened and looked out the window over the sink.

"See," Alex said. "Just like Stahl."

Stahl shook her head. "Not the same thing. Mr. Goren deserved that medal. I've read that report. It was one of the things that convinced me he was the right man for the mission."

Alex had sensed a growing admiration and respect for Bobby from the FBI Agents, but those in the kitchen now looked at him with awe. Bobby, who still stared out the window, was clearly becoming more uncomfortable.

"You have a Medal of Honor," Reynolds said. "You had the guts and brains to take on this mission. And the NYPD Brass—especially Moran—hates you?"

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "There were things. I was rebellious. Not disciplined. I did a lot of stuff."

Reynolds shook his head. "I think I'd like to put the cuffs on Moran myself."

"You'd have to get in line behind me," Alex said. She nodded at Bobby. "He's pretty remarkable. Great detective. And pretty good short order cook."

The impromptu party didn't break up as much as it drifted away. Shifts ended for some of the agents, and others returned to their posts. A yawning Stahl was the last to leave Alex and Bobby.

"Thanks for letting us invade," she said. "I think we all needed something like this."

"Yea," Alex said.

"I'm going to crash in an extra room," Stahl said. "Try not to bother you two until late tomorrow, or today. The agents in charge of the corruption case would like a meeting."

"Sure," Bobby said. Although he clearly enjoyed the first part of the evening, he'd been very quiet, especially after his Medal of Honor was mentioned.

Stahl paused in the kitchen door. "Thank you, Mr. Goren. For everything. I didn't know Captain Ross very well. I didn't have the time, unfortunately. But I think he'd be very proud of you. Of you both. Good night, or good morning."

"Thank you," Alex said when she could trust her voice.

She turned to Bobby, who stared at the floor. "Hey," she said as she walked to him.

"You know what's going on with me."

"Yea. You don't deal with praise well," Alex said. "Causes you a lot of guilt. I don't think you know how to deal with praise. I don't think you got a lot of it in your life."

"Yea," Bobby said. "Sometimes I think I'm happier when I feel guilty. At least I know how that feels."

Alex stood very close to him. "I think you should try to get use to praise. It feels a lot better."

"What if I get a big head?" He wrapped his arms around her.

Alex wrapped her arms as much as she could around him. "Don't worry," she smiled. "I don't think that'll be a problem with you. But, if it is, I'll let you know."

"I know you will." His chin rested lightly on her head. "This is weird. I've never had anyone. Never trusted anyone. Like this."

"You don't like it?"

Bobby laughed, and Alex loved the sound in her ears. "I like it. I like it a lot. I'm not used to it, but I'm looking forward to getting used to it."

"I'm looking forward to helping you with that."

"Upstairs?"

"Upstairs."

A few hours later a soft knock brought Alex out of a very pleasant sleep. Bobby's lips brushed across her forehead.

"Don't get up," he whispered. "Stay here. I'll get it."

The bed shifted as Bobby rose. Alex turned and blinked. There was a tiny ache behind her eyes, just enough to remind her of the alcohol she'd consumed. Her sleepy state reminded her that it'd been very late—or early—before she and Bobby got to bed, and even later—or earlier—before they got to sleep. She checked the clock and was surprised it was only a little after eight. Stahl had promised to let them sleep, and Alex wondered why that promised appeared to be broken. Through a fog, she heard Stahl's low and apologetic voice. She couldn't quite make out the words, but two registered in her head. One was "Moran", the other "suicide".

END CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Bobby's Medal of Honor is not show Canon.

Patcat


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Alex fought against leaping from the bed. Bobby muttered, "Thank you," and closed the door. Alex grabbed a shirt from the pile of clothes next to the bed and pulled it on.

"What is it?" she asked as she left the bed.

Bobby, staring at a sheet of paper, stood in front of the door. Alex walked towards him. After the warmth of Bobby and his bed, she felt very cold.

"Bobby. What's happening? What's wrong?"

"A Captain. One of Moran's allies. He committed suicide. His note. He gave details about what Moran and others did. Dates, people. He told the FBI to check his computer for emails. Stahl—that was her at the door—didn't know everything, but it's not just another nail in Moran's coffin. It pours dirt on it."

Alex struggled with the emotions running through her mind. Part of her was disappointed that it wasn't Moran who'd killed himself, but she also knew this would deepen the Department's black eye. And she grieved for the family hurt by this last desperate act.

"The Captain," she asked. "Who was it?"

"Fantelli. Anthony Fantelli."

"Fantelli?" Alex's voice betrayed her shock. "He was a lieutenant when I worked in Vice. He's…Was…a good cop. I don't understand."

"Fantelli had evidence that Moran knew something about Ross's work with the FBI. That Moran might have revealed something to somebody," Bobby said grimly.

Alex felt as if a giant fist had smacked her in the stomach. She was suddenly dizzy, and felt Bobby's strong arms around her. He guided her back to the bed.

"How could he?" Alex murmured.

Bobby shook his head. "I don't know. Greed I kinda understand, but to put a cop in danger, to ruin a mission. I don't understand it. I don't. All I've seen, and I can't understand it."

"Nothing should surprise me," Alex said. "I practically grew up in the Department. But I'm like you. I can't understand this."

"I just wish." Bobby sat heavily next to Alex on the bed. "I just wish this would end."

"Maybe it will." Alex took Bobby's hand. "Maybe this will end it. Maybe Moran will take a deal."

Bobby stood. "You know, I'm not sure I want him to."

Alex stared at him.

He started to pace. "Why should he get off so easy? I didn't get a deal. Ross didn't. Deakins didn't. You didn't. Why shouldn't Moran get to feel what it's like to not know what's going to happen to you, to have no control over your own life. Let him get ripped away from the people he loves and get tortured and…" He ceased pacing and stood shaking in front of Alex.

She stood uncertainly. She sensed she faced an explosion that had built for a long time. Her fear and anger and understanding of some of what was behind it increased her confusion.

"Bobby. I don't know what to say, especially when I think you have every right to be upset. I'd like to…I really don't know what I'd like to do to Moran, except that I'd like it to really hurt him."

His shaking lessened.

"The good thing," Alex continued. "Is that maybe all of this will be over soon. You keep saying that you want it to end. Maybe this will be it. And maybe this makes it even clearer that Ross was a hero. That Deakins was a hero. That you are a hero."

Bobby took a deep breath, walked to the desk, and placed the paper on its top. "You're a hero too." He walked back and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, I'm so tired."

"C'mon," Alex said. "Whatever's going to happen, is going to happen. Let's get some rest so we can deal with it." She fell back on the bed, taking Bobby with her. "What did Stahl want to do?"

"She didn't want us to get blindsided by this. The agents in charge of the corruption case still want to talk to us sometime today." He turned on his side to face her. "Alex, it's bad enough that we're getting hurt. But now other people…"

"Bobby. Anthony Frantelli, whatever his reasons, didn't commit suicide because of you or me. Moran, probably, but not you." She gently rubbed his temples. "Now, try to get some sleep."

"Ok."

When she work a few hours later, Alex realized Bobby wasn't by her side. She sat up quickly. "Bobby?"

"Hey."

She turned and saw him seated at the desk. He wore jeans and a white dress shirt. It'd been several months since he'd returned from his mission, and he looked considerably better. But there were occasional, brutal reminders of what had happened to him, and the sight of the shirt hanging loosely on his body caused Alex to look away from Bobby. She swallowed, and turned back to him. He stared at the files and papers scattered across the desk.

"You get some sleep?" she asked.

"Some."

Alex slipped from the bed and moved to the bathroom. She emerged several minutes later to find Bobby engrossed in the files. He started and stiffened when she first touched him, but relaxed as she began to massage his neck.

"You're tense," she said. "You worried about this meeting?"

"Not the meeting," he answered. His muscles wanted to relax, but his thoughts fought them. "What may come from it."

"None of this is your fault."

"I'm sorry you have to keep telling me that. It's like I told you. I keep thinking there's something I could do. Should do."

"Either extreme guilt or ego."

"Yea," Bobby admitted. "Not uncommon in families like mine. The kids either ruin everything or try to fix everything."

"Frank tried to ruin things," Alex said. "And you try to fix everything."

"Yea." Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "I know we've talked about this. Sometimes I think I couldn't help fixing things any more than Frank could help what he was."

"You both had choices," Alex said. "You chose the right way. Frank didn't."

"I wonder. I wonder how that happened. It's usually the oldest kid who tries to take care of everything. Maybe Frank and the man I thought was my father did me a favor by leaving me to take care of my mom."

"Maybe," Alex said. "But don't expect me to sing their praises." She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "It's almost one."

Bobby gathered the files. "Yea. The agents in charge of the case will be here soon." He sighed. "I'll be so glad when all of this is over. You know that a lot of stuff will keep coming out. Moran and the other Brass caught in this. Their attorneys will try to discredit everyone who testifies against therm. It'll be bad for you."

"Us," Alex said. "Bad for us."

"This isn't fair. All you did was back up your partner. But me? I've fought the system, played it, did stupid things."

"No," Alex declared. "No one deserves any of this, least of all you. We're in this together, anyway."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "They'll bring up stuff. Your Dad. Joe. Us."

"We got together after the department let us go."

"Fired me. You resigned."

Alex touched his arm. "They forced us both out."

"However that's played. They'll make it look like we were together when we were partners."

"Bobby." Alex placed her hands on his chest. "I had to hear about my father since before I was in the Academy. The stuff I heard and went through in Vice." She shook her head. "Nothing much could hurt me after that until Joe's murder. There were a lot of people who thought I moved up because of his death. I look back, knowing what I know now, and wonder if they were right. I wonder if I got some spots because someone felt guilty or didn't want me to think too much."

Bobby's head shot up. "You're a great cop. James Deakins would never have brought you into Major Case if he didn't think you didn't belong there."

"He brought Bishop in as a favor to someone."

"Bishop was a favor he was willing to give," Bobby said. "She wasn't you, but she was a good cop. Deakins never had to give up anything for you. Me, yes."

"We're doing it again," Alex said after a moment. "You mostly, but this is one of those time I'm doing it as much as you."

Bobby frowned.

"We're not at fault here. It's Moran and his buddies. They've hurt us, they've hurt other people. We can stop them."

"But…"

"Half of the Department already thought we were together a long time ago. The people who know us, who know what we did and who we are." Alex shrugged. "So, our reputations take a hit from people who don't matter. It'd be worth it to get rid of the bad guys."

"Ok," Bobby said after a moment. "Let's get down there."

Stahl and two other agents waited for them downstairs.

"We have possibly good news," one of the agents said.

"Thanks to Mr. Goren's testimony in the terrorism case," the second agent said. "And the increasing collapse of his defense and the abandonment of his "friends"…"

"Moran is resigning. He's accepting a plea bargain," Stahl said happily.

Alex didn't how heavy the weight on her shoulders was until it left. She heard a loud thump, and turned to see Bobby sitting on an overstuffed chair. He looked as if he'd been hit by a two by four.

"You mean," Bobby muttered. "It's over?"

"It looks like it," the first agent said. "After your testimony yesterday, Moran's lawyers rushed to make a deal. They realized it'd be very difficult to discredit a hero's testimony. Captain Fantelli's suicide and the information he left were the final blows."

"What about Moran's buddies?" Alex asked.

"The ones who have already taken deals," the second agent said. "Are scrambling to get one."

"Rats leaving the ship," Stahl commented.

"How many more Fantellis will there be?" Bobby asked.

"Mr. Goren," Stahl said gently. "You have a highly developed sense of responsibility. Maybe overdeveloped."

"There were other factors in Fantelli's case," the first agent said. "He'd held out making a deal because of loyalty to Moran. He was hung out to dry."

"He didn't know about a lot of stuff," the second agent said. "What happened to Captain Ross, to the two of you."

The first agent nodded. "He was shocked by what he'd been associated with."

"In some ways, Fantelli was another victim of Moran and his buddies," the second agent said.

"What do you need from Ms. Eames and myself?" Bobby asked. He had recovered from some of his shock.

"Honestly, we're not sure," the first agent said. "If you could, we'd like both of you to be in court when Moran pleads out. Just in case."

"And we thought," the second agent said. "You might want to be there."

"I do," Alex declared.

"Until then, the Bureau will be more than happy for you to stay here," the first agent said. "Agent Stahl will continue as your main contact. She likes the job."

"We like her," Alex smiled.

The two agents gathered their files and stood. "It shouldn't be long," the first agent said. Maybe a week or so. Thank you both. Your potential testimony had a lot to do with what looks like a great success. Thank you."

"I'll walk you out," Stahl said. "I'll miss both of you when this is over. But I'm glad things are finally ending and so well."

"Thank you," Alex said. Bobby nodded.

"It's almost over," Alex said. "We can get our lives back."

"Life?" Bobby thought. "What life?"

END CHAPTER 16


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Alex Eames frequently thought justice moved at its own pace. Sometimes it didn't move at all for years in some cases; sometimes it moved with an explosion of activity. In the next week, the NYPD corruption case exploded on an atomic scale. Former Chief of Detectives Kenny Moran's face scowled from newspaper pages and television screens. It was usually accompanied by other members of the NYPD Brass caught in Moran's web. Alex didn't try to show her satisfaction that this web included several cops she'd long disliked. She was equally dismayed that some of the faces in the news were those of what she thought were good cops

Other faces appeared. Frank Adair, no longer smug and powerful but still full of self-pity, came from prison to eagerly testify against Moran. The rumors were that Adair got a more comfortable cell, more time in the exercise yard, and more TV time in exchange.

"Rat," Alex's brother told her over the phone. "Adair is a real rat. But I still know some guys who think more of him than Goren. Don't get it. I just do not get it."

James Deakins' face appeared in connection with one story dealing with the many good cops hurt by Moran's vendettas. Bobby's reporter friend wrote a story vindicating Captain Danny Ross, one that detailed Ross' journey from Moran's friend to enemy and how he tried to protect his detectives and how Moran betrayed him.

Bobby Goren made occasional appearances in these stories. His reporter friend wanted to tell Bobby's story, but the potential subject refused to cooperate. But in the few stories where his name appeared, Bobby was a hero, a brave, smart cop unjustly harassed by a corrupt superior. These stories infuriated Alex, who remembered all the times the press made Bobby a whipping boy; they amused, at best, or embarrassed, at worst, Bobby.

Alex used her time to contemplate job offers, eventually deciding that one from Deakins' firm made the greatest sense. She spent time with her family. She considered selling her house. Her plans assumed Bobby would be part of her future, but she wasn't sure what Bobby thought. He said very little and rarely left his room. He occasionally spoke with FBI agents to clarify some point about their cases. He left the safe house to visit doctors, including psychiatrists, who made reassuring sounds about his progress.

These doctors saw what Bobby chose to show them. Alex saw and heard different things. She saw his refusal to show any emotion. She saw his terrible nightmares in the middle of the night and heard him crying and even screaming in terror. Alex welcomed their moments of lovemaking as much for the brief peace they gave Bobby as much as for the great pleasure they gave her. But she feared she was becoming less and less human to Bobby even as he became less and less human to himself.

The bargaining finally ended, and the day of Moran's sentencing fixed. Stahl unhappily told Bobby and Alex that the day would mark the end of their FBI protection. She and several agents offered to help them move.

"Although," Stahl said. "I'm not sure where Mr. Goren is going."

"I think he's going to live with me," Alex said. She looked at Bobby, who stood in front of and stared out the kitchen window. Alex thought he must have the entire back yard memorized by now.

"Yea," Bobby said softly. "I don't know where else I could go." He ran a hand through his hair. "If it's ok with you, Eames."

"I've got plenty of room. Two rooms begging for stuff," Alex said.

"You don't have to take me in," Bobby said after Stahl left.

"I want to take you in," Alex said patiently. "Besides, do you want to go somewhere else?"

"No," Bobby admitted. "Even if there was some place else."

Alex stepped closer to him. "Remember. I want you to come. I'm glad you'll be there."

Bobby moved into Alex's house the day before Moran's sentencing. The dispensation of the disgraced former Chief's fate was taking place with all the solemnity and formality of a High Mass. The FBI and Federal DA requested Alex and Bobby's presences at the sentencing. Alex was happy to see Moran get what was coming to him, but Bobby was less enthusiastic.

"It's a tragedy," Bobby said. "It's not that I feel sorry for Moran, but there are all the people he betrayed. Not just what he did to you and me, but everyone. What he did to the Department. To Deakins. To Ross. I just want all of this to be over."

"It will be tomorrow," Alex said.

It felt wonderful to be in her own bed, and even more wonderful to share it with Bobby. But he was restless and agitated. She tried to calm him with kisses and touches, but his muscles knotted up again as soon as her hands left him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "My mind is everywhere but here." He took a shower; he drank warm milk; he drank herbal tea; he even tried a glass of wine. He tried to read. He paced. Alex slept through most of this, but not all. At some point he fell into a fitful sleep. Alex knew this because around four thirty his screams woke her. It was one of the worst nightmares Alex had seen Bobby have, and it took several minutes for her to wake and convince him he was safe. She wiped the sweat from his face, got him a glass of cold water, and held him until he finally fell back into a restless sleep.

"Whatever happens to Moran," Alex thought as she held Bobby. "It won't be enough to make up for this."

The smell of coffee woke Alex. She stretched and yawned and realized Bobby wasn't beside her. She rose and went to look for him. She found him in the kitchen. He was dressed for court in a navy blue suit and tie. He sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper in front of him. He was very pale, pale even for Bobby in these past hard months, and the dark circles under his eyes were deeper than usual.

"Hey," Alex greeted him. She poured herself a cup of coffee. "Thanks for this."

"You're welcome. We…We seem to be having a lot of moments like this," Bobby said cautiously.

"Maybe this will be the last one for a while." Alex sat across from him. "You didn't get much sleep last night."

"I didn't expect to. I'm sorry I kept you awake. But I'm glad I'm here with you."

Alex reached for his hand. "I want you to think of this as your home."

"I'm trying to do that," Bobby said. "I don't think I've ever really thought of anywhere as home. Places where I sleep and keep my stuff, but not home. I think…I think home for me is wherever you are."

Alex stood, walked around the table, and wrapped her arms around Bobby. He trembled and wrapped his arms around her.

"I don't know what I would've done without you." His voice was muffled against her body. "I couldn't have survived any of this."

Alex fought the lump in her throat. "I'm glad I can help you. I love you and I want to help you."

"I'm sorry you have to keep saying that. Seems like I'd get the message. Maybe part of me needs to keep hearing it."

"Well, I like to keep saying it," Alex said. She kissed the top of his head. "You ok while I get a shower and get dressed?"

"Yea." He reluctantly let her go. "I gotta warn you. I'm not going to be the best company today."

"I can understand that."

Stahl had offered them a ride and some protection to and from the courthouse. The car and FBI agents arrived early, and Stahl helped them avoid the press and find seats in the courtroom where they could see but not be easily seen. Bobby wanted to melt into the dark wood of the walls. A large crowd slowly filled the room, a throng large enough to cause the bailiffs to shut the doors and block many people from entering. Alex saw several of Moran's victims in the room, but none of the man's allies. She mentioned this to Stahl, who smiled bitterly.

"They're all in jail," Stahl said. "Or putting as much distance as they can between themselves and Moran."

As the crowd's size grew, Alex questioned the wisdom of Bobby's presence. She'd encouraged him to come; several of the psychiatrists treating him strongly suggested it might be a good idea. But Bobby was terribly quiet and still, and Alex thought she saw him slowly collapsing in front of her.

When the time for Moran's scheduled appearance came and went, the crowd grew increasingly restless. The judge suddenly emerged to take her seat, a side door opened, and former Chief of Detectives Kenny Moran shuffled in front of the bench. Alex recognized the famous and expensive defense attorney who stood next to Moran. The NYPD loathed the man for his frequent attacks on the department and his ability to get obviously guilty perps off on technicalities. Alex wondered where Moran found the money and the gall to hire the man.

The angry buzz filling the courtroom ceased when Moran entered. Alex saw many familiar faces in the room. James Deakins, an inscrutable expression on his face, sat near the back. Zach Nichols, making no attempt to hide his anger, was in the center, and she saw Danny Ross' sons seated next to Elizabeth Rodgers. She touched Bobby's sleeve and pointed to Ross' sons.

"Yea." Bobby nodded. "Saw them come in."

"Of course," Alex thought. "He sees everything."`

The drama played out in front of the judge. Moran mumbled responses as the crowd struggled to hear him. Moran read an apology, but with his back to the crowd and in a low voice.

"He still doesn't get it," Alex whispered. "He doesn't think he's done anything wrong."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably in the chair next to her.

The judge apparently shared Alex's opinion. She dismissed Moran's apology and commented that she wished she could give Moran the full sentence for his crime. Moran's lawyer blanched. The judge noted that she could set aside his plea agreement, and Bobby shivered. And as much as Alex hated Moran, her fear for Bobby was much stronger. She was afraid that the judge might do something that would extend Bobby's ordeal. But the judge observed that Moran could still be charged with other crimes. She then gave Moran the maximum sentence that she could. Moran's lawyer sighed and started placing papers in his briefcase. Moran stood stunned as the bailiffs approached him. He started to return to life as they placed restraints on him. He didn't struggle, but glared around the courtroom as the bailiffs moved him towards the door. Some in the crowd withered and looked away, but many, including Alex Eames and James Deakins, steadily held Moran's gaze. Bobby slumped in his chair and tried to hide. But Moran saw him, and rage filled the former chief.

"Whack job," he seethed. "Traitor. Rat. Whack job."

Alex lurched forward, but Stahl held her back.

"You're the rat, Moran!" The shout came from the back of the courtroom, and was quickly joined by a burst of applause and other shouts. Alex was thrilled by these expression of anger at Moran, but her happiness was short lived when she saw Bobby staring at the floor.

"We need to get him out of here," Alex whispered to Stahl.

"Too late," the FBI agent responded.

The Federal D.A. loomed in front of them.

"Ms. Eames, Mr. Goren," he oozed. "If I could just impose on you for a few more minutes. Just a few moments before the press."

Alex remembered that this D.A.'s name was being mentioned in connection with several political offices. She was about to tell the man where he could put his photo op when Bobby emerged from his study of the floor.

"All right," he said with the air of a man being led to his execution. "Let's get this over with."

"Bobby," Alex began.

"This'll be it, right?" Bobby asked. "It'll all be over?"

"Yes," Stahl said. She gave the D.A. an angry look. "It'll be over."

The D.A. was an ambitious man, but even he had his limits. "Of course," he said.

A phalanx of FBI agents and court officers led the D.A, Stahl, Alex and Bobby through the courtroom and to the lobby. A mass of lights, cameras and microphones surged towards them. Alex and Bobby stood just behind the D.A.; Stahl and several other FBI agents just behind them. The Federal D.A. began saying the sort of things ambitious and politically aware D.A.s always said at the conclusions of difficult cases. Alex scarcely heard his words; she concentrated on Bobby. His face flushed, and Alex realized the D.A. was praising his and her contributions to the case against Moran.

"Tell how he saved my Dad's reputation!"

Alex 's instincts went on full alert.

"Tell him what Moran did. Tell how he got my Dad killed!"

The cameras, lights, and microphones spun to the source of these cries. A tall, gangly teenager with dark curly hair pushed to the front of the crowd. He was vaguely familiar to Alex, but Bobby recognized him immediately.

"It's Ross' oldest son," Bobby whispered. "Jeremy."

Alex remembered the pale and angry boy who'd stood bravely beside his younger brother and mother at his father's funeral. She saw Liz Rodgers reach for the boy, but he was already facing the press. The Federal D.A. looked confused and annoyed.

"My name is Jeremy Ross," the young man said bravely. "My father was Daniel Ross. The NYPD Captain who was working undercover. Moran broke his cover. If there's a traitor in this story, it's Moran. It's not Robert Goren." He looked directly at Alex and Bobby. He looked and seemed so much like his father that Alex fought against a lump in her chest. "Mr. Goren finished my father's mission. He vindicated him. My family is very grateful to Mr. Goren, and to Ms. Eames."

"Thank you," Alex mouthed, and Bobby nodded in Jeremy's direction. The young man turned and, ignoring the reporters' cries, faded back into the crowd.

A heavy weight leaned against Alex. She turned to find Bobby struggling to stay upright.

"Please," he whispered. "Please get me out of here."

Alex seized his arm. "Stahl," she whispered. "We need to get him out of here."

Stahl didn't argue with Alex after she saw how Bobby looked. She and two other agents moved quickly to Bobby's sides, and helped ease him through the crowd and to a side room. Most of the attention of the press and other was focused on Jeremy Ross, and they managed to get Bobby inside the room before anyone noticed. They helped Bobby on a bench.

"Find a doctor," Stahl said to the agents.

"No." Bobby raised a hand. "I'm ok."

He looked marginally better, but "ok" was a huge exaggeration. He was terribly pale, and his skin looked damp. Alex placed the back of her hand against his forehead. She was long past caring about what anyone might think. His skin felt clammy, but not warm.

"I'm better. Really. The crowd got to me," Bobby insisted.

"I hope it wasn't Moran," Stahl said. "If that man insulted me, I'd take it as a compliment."

"I don't think it was the insult," Alex said softly. "I think it was the praise."

Bobby's cheeks flushed. Alex was happy to see some color in his face.

"It was deserved," Stahl said. "Very much so."

Bobby stared at his feet. "Are we done?" he asked after a moment. "Is it over?"

"Yes," Stahl said. "The Bureau will want to keep in touch with both of you. And if you're not interested in pursuing permanent positions with it, you'd certainly be welcome as consultants. And, I'd just like to stay in contact with you." She shrugged. "I kinda like you guys."

Alex smiled. "We kinda like you too."

Bobby nodded shyly.

"Good. C'mon. I'll give a ride home."

Stahl led them through a side hall the press hadn't invaded. They encountered a few court officials until they turned a corner and nearly collided with Liz Rodgers and Danny Ross' two sons.

"Detectives," Rodgers began. "I'm sorry. Habit."

"Don't worry," Alex said. "I'll probably answer to it for the rest of my life."

Jeremy Ross stood awkwardly and shyly.

"Thank you," Bobby said. "What you said. It meant a lot. Your Dad was a good man. He was good to me. Better than I deserved."

Jeremy shuffled his feet. "I just told the truth. You saved his reputation. I wanted people to know that."

"He was very proud of both of you," Bobby said. "That's very important."

"I know," Jeremy said. His little brother nodded.

"You guys need anything," Alex said. "You let us know. You let us know how you're doing, ok? Here's my address and phone number. You can get hold of Mr. Goren that way too."

Liz Rodgers' face changed slightly in a pleasant way. "Good," she said, her eyes meeting Bobby's and then Alex's. "Good."

"You too, Liz," Alex said. "Please stay in touch."

"I will." Liz stepped forward and hugged Alex.

Bobby stretched his right hand to Jeremy. "Your Dad would've been proud of you today. You acted like a real man."

Jeremy took Bobby's hand and awkwardly shook it. "Thank you."

"We better get out of here before the press finds us," Stahl said apologetically.

Bobby was quiet as they travelled to Alex's home. He said little during their farewell to Stahl, and stood awkwardly in the hall as Alex placed their coats in the closet.

"Hey." She stepped close to him. "You ok?"

"It's…I…I don't know what I feel," he confessed.

"C'mon." She took his hand and led him to the couch. "Talk to me."

He sat heavily and leaned his head against the couch. He closed his eyes. Alex gently rubbed his temples. He sighed, opened his eyes, and let Alex pull his head to rest in her lap.

"I'm relieved, so relieved, it's over. I'm glad Moran is going to jail. I feel like we're safe. But…I know there are still people out there angry at us. Especially me."

"Bobby…You did the right things…"

He raised and turned his head to look at her. "I know. I know. And you helped me do that. Help me do everything. But now. I don't have anything to do. And that's very scary for me."

Alex tried not to rush too quickly through the door Bobby had just flung open. "Think of it as an opportunity. A chance to see what you can do. A chance to rest." She smiled. "A chance to be with me."

"I know. And when I don't panic and let my thoughts race away with me, and think about what's really important, I'm happy. Especially about that last thing. It's just…" He settled his head in her lap. Alex's fingers played through his curls. "It's going to take me a while to recover from all of this. And it's going to stay with me. There's going to be lots of nightmares and sleepless nights."

"I've got my own of those," Alex said. "We'll help each other. We'll get through it."

He reached up to touch her chin. "I believe you. And I guess I can believe I'm a good man. Because you tell me that and you believe it."

She kissed him.

That night was the first of many when they kept the nightmares away.

END

I'm sorry it took such a long time to end this.


End file.
